


Seven Songs

by PortlyPuppy



Category: Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Humor, Denial, Eventual Smut, F/M, Flirting, Friendship/Love, Neck Kissing, Pining, Romance, Self-Acceptance, Slow Burn, Smooching, Songwriting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2020-04-23 11:09:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 35,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19149823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PortlyPuppy/pseuds/PortlyPuppy
Summary: Set in the aftermath of Valentine's Day 2019.Rebecca resolves to move on from her Love Quadrangle, while the residents of West Covina react to her decision not to pick a guy.But, although it's not about the guys... does one of them have a teeny tiny tendency to linger in her mind?





	1. Goodbye to The Guys

**[REBECCA’S HOUSE]**

It was unquestionably one of the hardest things Rebecca Bunch had ever had to do. Yet, in some way, it was also one of the easiest - the thing that made complete sense to her. That weight, which had been pressing down on her for the last few weeks [she ignores the voice in her head which says “you mean your whole life, bitch”] was somehow gone. Had it disappeared when Paula told her she was _remarkable_ while she marveled at Rebecca’s secret song world of the mind? Or, when she thrust the pen towards her and told her to write that world down?

It was both those things, she reflects, and it was also the relief at the end of her so-called 'Love Quadrangle'. The relief of letting Josh Chan down gently and finally closing the door on that idea that somehow he, alone, might hold the key to her happiness. Then starting to tell Nathaniel he wasn’t it, and not even needing to explain, he knew they weren’t riding off into the sunset together and saved her the difficulty of having to spell it out to him. 

His words ring in her ears “you only get one life – and you’ve got to live that the way you want”. Rebecca smiles to herself at the memory. Was this really the same guy who'd once tried to fire her when she’d broken up with him? How far he’d come.

She’d also carried the same lightness with her when she’d found herself breathlessly trying to explain to Greg about how it felt to finally put all those ideas in her head down on paper. Wasn’t this now her meant to be? As she sat in the once-again bustling Serrano’s restaurant – the setting of his new-found enthusiasm towards life – she knew he would understand. He’d always been the one to get her in some [profound] way, and, obviously, she didn’t need to explain to him that she wasn’t picking one of the other guys. But, as she told him she needed to be alone for now, understanding wasn’t the only thing she saw on his face. She also saw the hurt and sadness. This was going to be harder than she thought…

Rebecca gives herself a literal shake to forget the memory and tries instead to concentrate on the afternoon in front of her. Her plan is to head to the mall to browse song writing books, before meeting up with her girlfriends at the Wine Bar on Foothill, but AJ appears out of the spare room before she can leave.

His room now, she reminds herself, since Josh had moved out the week before.

“Oh, hey girl, what’s going on!? Look at you all dressed up with places to go and people to see” he smiles over-enthusiastically.

“Yes, I’m fine – I’m _fine”_ she says. “I’m going to the mall and then to meet _ma gurls_ ” – the last part is said in a sing-song voice she immediately regrets.

AJ nods encouragingly but can’t help following up with: “it’s just that last week you had the potential of three gorgeous men to date and somehow you ended up with none of them but you’re… okay with this?”

He gives Rebecca a skeptical look and she nods in a breezy confirmation.

“And now Rips-McGee Josh Chan himself has chosen literal Magic Club over you. Just… how can you be fine? I don’t buy it?!”

“What? No!” she replies. “He didn’t choose Magic Club, he’s just roomying with someone George knows through Magic Club… and I turned him down, actually” she continues as AJ begins to protest. “But now it’s okay and I’m fine and I’m going to look at song writing books in my spare time, and also, I’m fine.”

With one last smile she makes a swift exit before AJ can continue the conversation further.

“Okay, but just so you know, I kept a screen grab of the whiteboard in case you need it for future reference!” he yells after her.

* * *

 

As Rebecca heads for her car, she reflects on the strange feeling of knowing that her words are, for-once, truthful. She’d attempted to start over so many times in the last few years, and told herself she was happy [ _this is what happy feels like]_ but never managed to truly mean it.

This time, however, she actually does feel okay. Not perfect yet; she’s a little daunted about the adventure she’s about to start. Singing lessons, and music lessons, and baring the songs that have lived in her head for years to the world, all feel a little intimidating. She’s also embarrassed still about how things escalated with her Love Quadrangle, and sad at causing any hurt to Josh, Nathaniel, or Greg. But despite this, she does generally feel okay – she’s not quite sure if this is what happy feels like, but she feels okay - so it’s a start.

Pleased with herself for her honesty with AJ, she begins to hum to herself until a memory of a long-ago conversation enters her mind:

_You have to admit, you’re not, like in general, steeped in honesty_

She pushes the thought down and tries to hum again: “Actually, Greg, I think I finally am”.

 

**[WINEBAR ON FOOTHILL]**

_Rebecca’s friends sit at a table nursing glasses of Pinot waiting for Rebecca to arrive. Valencia is sat arms-crossed glaring at Paula, who looks unbothered, while Heather glances uneasily between them._

“It’s just I really needed that money, Paula” Valencia sighs.

“I know” nods Paula quickly, “didn’t we all? But in the end, I really think this has turned out for the best… and NO TALKING about this when Cookie gets here. We’re supportive friends, remember?”

Valencia sighs again and arches an eyebrow, but reluctantly remains silent. Heather tries to change the subject by talking about recent menu changes at Homebase, but can feel Valencia still stewing.

The conversation has remained the same for over a week, ever since the patrons of Home Base realised that Rebecca and Greg had cancelled their date and all the bets were thrown. Chaos had then ensued further, when Paula had had to explain to everyone that Rebecca was choosing no-one and voluntarily deciding to remain single. Since then Paula has spent most of her time trying to convince everyone that Rebecca’s choice was a good thing, and Heather has now come round to agreeing, even if the rest of West Covina are still up-in-arms.

“I was just so sure she was going to choose Greg” Valencia starts again.

“No” Heather argues “I actually agree with Paula now. We’ve watched Rebecca car-crash her way through relationships for the past three years. This is probably the healthiest decision she’s ever made.”

Valencia “whatevers,” and throws back a comment about Heather betraying Team Greg.

“No, Nathaniel was a safe bet” counters Heather. “Sure, I used to think her and Greg were meant to be. But in this scenario? An elaborately-organized, competitively constructed night of ‘True Romance’ to win Rebecca’s heart?” She shakes her head. “My money is not on Greg Serrano. I dated him, remember – he wouldn’t even hold my hand?”

Paula laughs and Valencia glares. “It’s just so frustrating. We got the skinny on Josh and Nathaniel’s dates but know absolutely nothing about what happened between her and Greg. We know they spent the evening together, so why not just do the date?”

Paula shrugs and Heather mentions that all she got out of Hector was something about balloons.

“He wasn’t even into it anyway” Paula adds. “He spent most of the week before making me salmon, which, by the way, was excellent.”

Heather and Valencia look puzzled, but Paula shushes any further reaction as Rebecca comes skipping into the bar. The four friends spend the next hour catching up and hearing about Rebecca’s shopping trip, her feelings about AJ as a new room mate, and how about how her writing is going. Josh, Nathaniel, and Greg are not mentioned.

“See, she’s doing amazing” Paula stage whispers to Valencia when Rebecca leaves to go to the bar. Valencia nods, begrudgingly, which she quickly turns into a bright smile when Rebecca returns to the table and asks her:

“Anyhow Valencia, enough about me – aren’t you supposed to be back in New York by now?”

Valencia demurs, “Beth and I agreed that I’d stay back a little longer in case you needed me after…er… everything that happened… and to sort a few things”

Rebecca begins to protest, so Valencia can’t help bursting out with “Great! Then it’s because I’m planning on proposing to Beth. I’m here to plan the arrangements, choose the ring, buy the drone…”

“Drone?!” Paula’s eyes light up at the mention of this detail as Rebecca squeals and Heather demands Prosecco for the table. The girls continue to hound Valencia for details when Nathaniel enters, gives their table a quick wave of acknowledgement, and takes a seat at the bar.

“Dammit, we’re purposely not at Home Base to try and avoid any awkward run-ins” Paula mutters, as Heather and Valencia look concerned.

“It’s fine,” breathes Rebecca. “The Cove is very small. I can’t avoid Nathaniel and Josh and Greg forever”.

It makes her feel slightly guilty seeing Nathaniel again, but she doesn’t mention to her girls that it’s not the first time this week she’s seen him. He’d approached her at Rebetzel's to repeat “no hard feelings,” and let her know that Darryl had told him about her song writing plans and to wish her luck. It was a formal interaction, but with warmth there, and Rebecca understood it as his way of underlining that he was letting her go.

She turns the conversation back to Valencia, which Paula notices and gives her a quick smile before joining in. They continue talking about Valencia’s wedding plans until Whi-Jo and Josh Chan enter the bar, greet Nathaniel, and then all head out of the bar together. Josh gives a brief smile to the girl group in passing.

“What’s happening? Are Josh and Nathaniel like _BFFs_ now?!” hisses Valencia.

“Yeah, they were all hanging out in Home Base a few days ago and making a load of sporting references. It was kinda weird, like they’d bonded over losing” Heather adds.

“Sorry you had to bump into them both, Cookie” Paula shoots Becky a look.

“It’s fine, besides Kevin at Home Base seems kind of mad at me for some reason, so I’m glad we came here”.

Heather gives a knowing smile, and Rebecca momentarily reflects that she’s relieved to get the first meeting with Josh out of the way since his upset at moving out a week or so earlier. She drifts back into the conversation to hear Valencia say:

“I’m so glad you didn’t pick Josh, aren’t you Paula?” and then get an elbow in the ribs as Paula tries to change the subject.

Rebecca feels a bubble of curiosity rise up at the prospect of knowing her friends’ opinions on her old love-life. During the week of her dates, her friends had remained frustratingly neutral on her choices and now they were starting to reveal clues about their feelings. Did Valencia’s comment mean Paula had been rooting for Josh?

She gives Paula a searching look before resolving to change the subject and instead asks Heather about her opinions on keyboard manufacturers.

 

**[LATER THAT NIGHT]**

Rebecca is on her way home from the Wine Bar on Foothill and finds herself crossing the street and taking a left to pass by Serrano’s restaurant. She doesn’t go in but peeps through the shutters and is relieved to see a dark curly head bent over the cash register. With a dishcloth draped over one shoulder, and a curl falling over his forehead, he looks familiar and at home in his surroundings. He’s still in West Covina then.

For the rest of the week she keeps up this walk as part of her post-work routine. One-time Greg is surprisingly near the window, and she quickly keeps walking, cheeks blazing, as his dark hazel eyes dart her way.

 

 

**[REBETZEL’S PRETZELS]**

_Rebecca is taking her lunch break and trying to ignore the slight hangover she has from the two and a half glasses of wine the night before._

“So, I’m thinking something square-cut – something like this?” Valencia says, offering several printouts of beautiful rings.

“You don’t mind me showing you these, right?” she asks as Nathaniel appears from the lift and heads towards the foyer.

“No, it’s actually a relief to concentrate on someone else and not have to think about the guys” Rebecca answers truthfully, with a shrug, as Josh enters the building, bro-handshakes with Nathaniel andthey both head outside.

Valencia watches the interaction unfold and then studies Rebecca’s face carefully. “So, have you seen Greg at all since last week?”

“Nope,” admits Rebecca. “No sightings, texts, calls, smoke signals, _nada_.”

“Hmm, he hasn’t been seen in Homebase either, and Heather says Hector hasn’t really heard from him… mind you Kevin is still mad at him given the…” she continues, before noticing Rebecca’s puzzled frown and returns hastily to engagement rings. Rebecca mulls over Valencia referring to Greg, given that it's Nathaniel and Josh who have just left the building, but before she can think of a way to question this AJ interrupts them by calling from the counter:

“Hey boss slash roomie,” he sing-songs, “I'mma hoping you’re coming back to work 20 minutes earlier since you were that late opening up this morning? K? Thaaanks!”

Rebecca rolls her eyes and rubs her temples. “Honestly, V, I’ve not got time to think about Gre... any guy at the moment... what with writing and singing lessons, and trying to keep this place afloat. It’s going to be tough”.

 Valencia nods sympathetically and the conversation turns back to her engagement plans.

* * *

The rest of the week passes smoothly for Rebecca. Her first singing lesson, which is daunting yet wonderful, running the shop at Rebetzel’s, setting her keyboard up in the lounge area, and comparing Netflix queues with AJ.

It’s ten days later when she picks up a envelope from her mailbox and opens it to find a crisp invitation cordially inviting her to Nathaniel Plimpton III’s Leaving Celebrations _._

“Wait, what…?”

And then, that night on her way home her heart sinks as she passes Serrano’s to find the lights off and the shutters down. No sign of any life at all. Maybe just a night off, she thinks, until she spots a sign hanging on the door reading "closed until further notice".

“ _I couldn’t say goodbye – If I did, I would never leave_ ”

Rebecca puts her head down and continues walking grimly onward towards home, ignoring the impulse to get out her phone and text Greg. When she gets home, she pours herself a glass of soda, arranges herself some snacks, lines up her gel-pens, gets out her new notebooks and writes and writes and writes.


	2. Two Steps Forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rebecca starts music lessons, Nathaniel leaves and Greg returns.. but for how long? Plus, burritos. 🥰

**[REBECCA’S HOUSE]**

_Rebecca sits at the keyboard in the living space of her apartment staring nervously at the black and white keys in front of her. In two hours’ time she’ll have her first proper music lesson and the occasion feels momentous. She flexes her fingers, about to touch the keys, when AJ comes screeching through the door._

“Rebecca, have you been watching shows on my Netflix again?” he demands.

“What!? AJ... ugh, you’re ruining my mood” she complains.

AJ continues to moan about his screwed up algorithms, and then suddenly stops, takes a closer look at Rebecca, and sniffs the air. He sees the area around the keyboard is surrounded by candles and incense, and the kitchen counter is suspiciously clean, save for a bowl of water filled with lemons.

"What's going on!?" 

Rebecca acknowledges she’s preparing herself for her first keyboard lesson and turns back to lovingly fingering some beginner sheet music she bought in advance.

“... And the lavender?” asks AJ, noticing some behind the keyboard.

“Valencia’s recommendation to ward off bad karma.”

AJ groans,. “I think I preferred it when you were obsessed with men”. But he still gives her a good luck squeeze before heading to his room to give her space to continue not playing her keyboard.

 

**[DARRYL WHITEFEATHER’S APARTMENT]**

_Rebecca is sat watching Hebbie play on the rug while Darryl goes through a checklist of items she’ll need for an evening of babysitting._

“Thanks so much for doing this at short notice Rebecca, April doesn’t think we need Nanny anymore and her regular babysitter just hasn’t bonded with Hebbie” Darryl confides, perched on the edge of his sofa. 

“Hey, it’s no problem Darryl. Also, now I’ve ditched men I’ve got a lot of time to spend with my friends and, er, genetic offspring”

Darryl "awws" and adds an item to his checklist.

“Also,” Rebecca adds, “I can write easily here and you always have a generously full fridge, which I appreciate since I no longer have that lawyer’s salary. And, also, I haven’t done groceries properly in two weeks”.

Darryl offers her a loan but Rebecca refuses.“No, I just need get my shit in order and work out my finances. Paula says it’ll be good for me.”  She then bends down to play with Hebbie on the rug and Darryl smiles watching them.

“You know, it’s a shame Greg left town, he was on my list of reliable babysitters”.

Rebecca raises an eyebrow. “Really, Greg?”

“Yes, after that time he stayed when we had to run over to Paula’s; I got him to come back a few time after that and I felt that he and Hebbie really bonded”.

She looks skeptical, but Darryl continues while picking up some of Hebbie’s toys.

“So, you haven’t heard from him then? Like when he’s coming back?” he asks. 

Rebecca sighs, brandishes her phone at him and says she’s only got on the one message which “she’s already shown him multiple times”.

_Hey Bunch. Just in case you’re wondering, I’ve had to come back to Emory for a bit. Got some course things that it’s easier to sort out from here. Also, some family stuff going on. Hope the writing is going well. Peace out. Greg x_

“Peace out!?” Darryl chuckles and picks up Hebbie and gives her kiss before passing her to Rebecca.

“Anyway, sorry I won’t mention Greg again.” He pauses. “So, you are coming to Nathaniel’s leaving party next week, right?”

“Darryl,” Rebecca rolls her eyes. “I’m moving on, remember. Concentrating on myself? Not talking about the guys?”  She smells the top of Hebbie’s head. “But yes, I will be at the party."

Darryls smiles and tells Rebecca how he thinks moving to Guatemala will be such a good move for Nathaniel and how well he’s pulled himself together after… _everything_.

“Right, Guatemala” Rebecca nods, but before she can say anything else the buzzer rings and Darryl is grabbing his jacket and kissing Hebbie goodbye.

“Oh, she likes this one,” he throws a toy to Rebecca on his way out. She looks at the toy and a blush spreads over her face, as she remembers seeing it before. “You do, huh?” she asks Hebbie softly, before putting the toy under a pillow.

 

**[A BAR ON THE FANCIEST EDGE OF WEST COVINA]**

_Rebecca waits outside the bar for Paula, getting increasingly frustrated as the evening is unexpectedly wet, and Paula is nowhere to be seen._

“C’mon Paula, don’t make me go in alone,” she mutters as her phone pings in her hand. It’s Paula saying she's got to “work late on a big case” and will be another couple of hours.

“Dammit.” Rebecca is feeling uncharacteristically nervous about the party, but gives herself a little shake and pushes open the door to the bar. Luckily for her, no-one turns to stare as she enters, so she has time to scan the interior taking in the sleek and tasteful décor. There are some oversized images of maps, and photos of exotic-looking primates, placed on canvases throughout the room.

She notes a lot of Whitefeather ex-colleagues, whom she doesn’t especially want to talk to, and Josh Chan talking to an attractive curly haired woman. And then Nathaniel stood between a slim blonde woman and Whi-Jo.

Remembering that Heather should be there, she searches for her and is about to go over when she realizes with a start who she is talking to.

 _Greg_.

He’s stood between Heather and Hector nursing a bottle of soda, and looking much the same in a denim shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He meets her eye immediately and gives her a furtive soft look before turning quickly back to Heather and Hector.

Rebecca groans inwardly as she realizes it’s the first time she’s been in a room with Josh, Nathaniel, and Greg since pre-Valentines Day, and is momentarily at a loss of what to do. So, on instinct she heads to Nathaniel to thank him for the invitation.

“Kiss ass good manners saving the day again” shes murmurs, lingering by Maya, undecided on how to break up the conversation between Nathaniel, Whi-Jo and the blonde woman. She’s half listening to Maya’s monologue about how much she admires her decision to be a "voluntarily single creative," and half trying to get in on the neighbouring conversation, when the blonde pats Nathaniel on the arm and leaves the group.

“Man, I’m just so pleased for you about all this,” says Whi-Jo, clinking beers with Nathaniel, who thanks him, warmly.

“Also,” Whi-Jo continues, “you look actually happy, and for once it’s because you’re focusing on yourself and not fixating on Rebecca”.

Nathaniel nods, “I mean, I owe Rebecca a lot, but I feel like I’m at a place now where she’s… like, irrelevant to my happiness. Do you know what I mean?”

“Amen to that,” Whi-Jo agrees and clinks beers again.

“Ouch,” admits Rebecca. She is happy for Nathaniel, but it hurts to hear this said out loud, so she tries to sneak away from Maya. However, Nathaniel spots her and pulls her over. He’s thanking her for coming and repeating that she inspired him, but her head is buzzing and she’s also distracted by the stern eyebrow Whi-Jo is giving her.

“What?” she asks him, frostily, when Nathaniel leaves to greet some other guests.

Whi-Jo puts his head on one side. “So, you’re really sticking to this single lady thing then, huh?”

Rebecca replies in the affirmative and Whi-Jo continues, “Good, because I’m not cleaning up anymore messes… and I’m still confused as to what exactly happened to my plan on Valentines Day, after your… your Valentine’s Day massacre! "

He looks pleased with himself for this phrase, but then sees her face and softens. “But it seems to be working out – look at Nathaniel, and Josh is doing a lot of magic. So, err... good luck to you.”

“Thanks, Whi-Jo.” Rebecca takes this kernel and turns to leave, but Whi-Jo finishes with: “Just be careful. He’s going through some…er…family stuff”. With that he strides off across the room towards Hector and Greg.

“Who is... Greg?” she calls after him, despite knowing he isn’t going to answer her.

 

* * *

 

A little later, Rebecca spots the food table and trots over, pleased with distraction. She's choosing herself cutlery when the woman in front of her turns around and looks her up and down.

Shit, Mona.

“Err….hi?” Rebecca says tentatively, and immediately takes in Mona’s expensive yet tasteful, fitted dress, straight silky hair and flawless makeup.

“Well, Rebecca Bunch, you’re here,” Mona says and gives a sharp laugh.

Rebecca feels the blood rushing to her cheeks and is acutely aware that the rain has caused a small halo of frizz to form above her head, and also the fact that her black and floral pin tuck blouse is not new, and why did she wear _jeans?_ Even if they are her best jeans.

“I’m sorry,” she sighs. “I really….”

Mona holds up her hand.

“No, I don’t need to hear it - I figured you might be here. Nathaniel seems to have got his shit together and I’m pleased for him. I knew if he was inviting me then you two must be over.”

Rebecca agrees quickly, “Yes, we definitely are. We haven’t been together for months, It’s such a good move for him.”

  
“Yup,” says Mona. She looks Rebecca up and down. “And you seem to be doing…well?”

Rebecca begins to ramble about herself and dropping out of the law, but Mona cuts her off again. “I don’t think we need to do this” she says slowly. “But it was good to finally see you, Rebecca.”

She grabs her [small] plate of food, gives a brief acknowledgment of goodbye, and walks off leaving Rebecca stood clutching the edge of the food table.

 

She's taking deep breathes to try and stop the room spinning, when she’s interrupted by a concerned voice.

“Hey, are you okay?”

She turns to see Greg looking at her with a slight frown.

“Err, yes, no…hi Greg. Erm, I think so?”

“Are you sure there”? he asks again with a small laugh.

“That was Mona” she nods after her. “Nathaniel’s ex.”

“Ah. The one you…” Greg tails off.

“Cheated on for eight months? Yup.”

“Wow, eight months. I knew it was a while, but eight…” he cuts off again after seeing Rebecca’s face.

“Ugh, the shame” she mutters. “Oh no, shame and guilt, and ugh – not this, I’ve gotta leave.”

“Are you sure?” Greg asks. “I feel like Nathaniel might be pretty pissed if you duck out early. He was very insistent I came, so I can only imagine what he was like with you.”

Rebecca deliberates for a moment  and Greg adds, “And Mona doesn’t seem so bothered.” He gestures over to where Mona is now stood chatting animatedly with a small group.

“C’mon let’s get some food?” he suggests, taking her elbow and leading her gently back to the buffet table. Rebecca reluctantly agrees and starts examining the food next to Greg. 

“Wow,” says Greg, “no meat, no dairy, no carbs…”

“…no fun?” finishes Rebecca with a chuckle.

“This green sauce looks, er, good for me?” Greg stirs it slowly and quizzically.

“Yeah, don’t eat that” she replies, knocking the spoon out of his hand. Her hand lingers on his a little bit too long and she feels immediately warm to the touch.

He holds her gaze. “Okay, good to know”.

“Yeah,” she recovers, returning her gaze to her own plate. “Classical Nathaniel party food – health first”.

“See, aren’t you glad you didn’t leave?” Greg asks pulling out a stool from a nearby table, taking a seat and waving a piece of kale crisp at her. “Also,” he adds “and, I’d wager more importantly, if you’d left already, you’d have missed Josh’s magic trick.”

Rebecca can't help but laugh at this. "That's true," she admits and takes the seat next to him, her run-in with Mona starting to be forgotten.

 

* * *

 

_Later Paula arrives, and Rebecca spends a couple of hours with her discussing the 'big case' and the latest musical developments in Rebecca’s world. Paula is trying to encourage her Cookie to play something on the bar’s piano when Nathaniel loudly clears his throat and taps a spoon against his glass._

His speech starts by thanking Darryl and Bert for their support and for being surrogate father-figures [his real dad is due to turn up later after his meeting, he promises]. Then he turns to his friends, thanking WhiJo, and then Josh, and Greg.

Paula raises her eyebrows at Rebecca.

“Gentlemen, I’d just like to commend you for being great sports,” he begins. “ I know things may have been a little, er, weird over the last couple of months… but really it was an honour competing against the pair of you.”

Josh raises his glass to this. Greg smiles, unsurely.

“Josh, it was great to be on the same team as you in the end (also, _awesome_ illusion, buddy! ) and Greg, all respect to you man – I get it now.”

Greg puts a hand up to his face.

“You didn’t need to have a special ‘thing’ – I see that.” Nathaniel goes on. “You just needed to be the right guy at the right time, congratulations to you. And good luck with the restaurant, buddy.”

“He does know you and Rebecca aren’t together, right?” stage whispers Whi-Jo to Greg.

“I think so…” replies Greg, half-grimacing and not daring to look at Rebecca.

 

But Nathaniel has moved on to Rebecca and  is thanking her again for inspiring him to be brave and go after what he really wants. She smiles back at him, and he continues:

“… and I know it all seems really fast, but the truth is I actually got over you further back, when you briefly dated… someone else.”

“Is he really saying all this in front of everyone?” hisses Rebecca in an undertone to Paula, blushing.

“Yeah, I had this weird.. dream time which helped me process things and I knew I had to let you go… but then I got all competitive (you know I love competition) when I thought I could win you back.” He gestures in the direction of Josh and Greg and Rebecca nods.

“But I truly want the best for you Rebecca. I wish you luck”.

He then moves on to details of his trip to Guatemala and Rebecca feels like a weight has been lifted. Paula squeezes her hand and the tension in the room begins to dissipate.

 

* * *

 

Another hour or so later, Greg is stood studying a large canvas of a lemur propped by the exit, when Rebecca joins him. She puts her head to one side, looking at the image.

“He looks kind of sad”

“Yeah,” replies Greg, continuing to stare at the lemur. “I’m glad Nathaniel is going to go and save him”.

They both laugh and turn to face each other, but before Rebecca can say anything her stomach gives an audible grumble.

“Oh, busted” she mock-grimaces.

Greg chuckles and then turns serious. “Hey, if you are still hungry though, we could go and grab some food?”

“Yeah," she admits. “I’m starving, that array of lettuce earlier didn’t quite hit the spot. Are you?”

Greg agrees, adding “I could eat, like, 80 of these guys” waving at the canvas. Rebecca laughs, giving his arm a gentle punch before following him out of the bar.

They’re walking huddled under Greg’s umbrella on the street outside, and Greg suggests heading to a nearby Mexican spot.

“Cool, agrees Rebecca, “...you know I can always go for tacos.”

The comment hangs in the air for a moment before Greg says, quietly, “Hey, I know, let’s get burritos this time instead.”

He gives her a slightly tentative look, but then smiles, and she nods in agreement. They walk on together through the rain.

 

**[MEXICAN CANTINA]**

_Rebecca and Greg sit facing each other, contentedly eating their burritos and ‘shooting the breeze’ [as Rebecca tells Paula the next day]. Rebecca is just finishing telling Greg about a joke song she’s written about AJ’s morning routine, when he puts down the remainder of his burrito and looks at her, nervously._

Rebecca falls quiet and Greg begins. “So, I guess I owe you an apology about skipping town... Again.”

She shakes her head. “You don’t owe me anything. I mean… though, I did wonder?”

Greg pulls at his rolled-up sleeves. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you better.” He pauses. “Look about what I told you at the mechanics, and I’m not telling you this to bribe you or guilt you... I meant that, what I said to you. It’s how I feel.”

Rebecca bites her lip.

“It wasn’t part of some plan to win you in a competition. So, it was just hard to hear you want to be alone… I just needed some times to process things.”

Rebecca nods, “I get that”.

He smiles, “I realize now that I rushed in too quickly when I came back home. I just got excited that I was in place to treat you better than before, and you seemed different too. I guess I didn’t really consider how you were doing on your own journey.”

Greg pauses and Rebecca dabs her last bit of burrito in some guacamole, looking thoughtful.

“But I get it now,” smiles Greg. “Watching you tell Paula about how your writing is going. The look on your face when you were telling me about your ideas for songs. I see now that you need to do this.”

Rebecca thanks him with blushing cheeks and puts her hand on his. “I’m just glad you don’t hate me.”

Greg shakes his head. “And I can’t believe I’m bringing _this_ up”. He closes his eyes, before saying, quickly, “But I definitely didn’t process the you and Marco thing properly – so some time away was good for that too.”

“Yep, can see that” Rebecca says, taking a huge gulp of her drink.

“And now... let’s never mention that again.” Greg finishes.

* * *

 

A short while later Greg is in the bathroom and his phone bleeps on the table next to Rebecca. She can’t resist the urge to look, and sees “ _Alice calling_ ” flash on the screen.

“Huh, Alice,” she wonders. “Who the…?”

When Greg returns from the bathroom, she’s innocently playing with her own phone.

“So, Gregory, are you going back to Emory soon, or are you just here now …or?”

“Yep, no – going back in a couple of days,” he answers, making a mental note of the _Gregory_. “Got to finish off my course – its’ easier to be there, ya know? See people face-to-face.”

“Yup, yup,” Rebecca says, playing with a strand of her curly hair. Greg’s phone beeps again and he’s distracted, and Rebecca tells him he can take it, trying to sound as casual as possible. He declines and types out a quick text, not meeting her eye.

When he’s finished he tells her he’ll be back in West Covina by the summer, and then stumbles a bit while saying he only came back to the Cove briefly for Nathaniel and some “family stuff”.

Rebecca’s ears prick up at this, but Greg deflects her and throws his finished burrito wrapper into the bin.

“So, you will keep in touch now?” she asks, shyly, as they head out the door.

“Yeah,” Greg smiles. “I think we can manage to be friends?”

They exchange smiles, and there’s an awkward pause where neither seem to want to leave, and then Greg eventually kisses her quickly on the cheek.

“G’night Rebetzel.”,

* * *

Later, when she’s sat in her car outside her house, not wanting to go in, she scrolls through Greg’s Facebook friends searching for an Alice. She easily finds one [Greg only has 63 connections], with short brown hair and blue eyes and an Emory colours cover photo. Her thumb hovers over the button, resisting the urge to stalk further, when she’s interrupted by a text message:

_Hey Bunch. How did you enjoy the burritos? Greg x_

She smiles and can’t help instantly replying:

_I liked them. Different, but good. X_

He replies with a smiley emoji, which Rebecca makes a mental note to tease him about later. She decides not to stalk Alice any further and instead puts her phone away and enters the house. AJ is waiting for her and greets her with an excited, “So, roomie, how was your night? Insta tells me you sat on a piano stool?”

She laughs and sits on the couch, answering his questions, while nursing the cup of cocoa he brings her. She feels relaxed and takes out her notebook and scribbles a few notes while they chat.

It had been a good night.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Two Steps Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A two-parter.
> 
> Things aren't going well for Rebecca but will she let anyone help her? Meanwhile, Valencia plans her engagement party and Rebecca and Greg are both involved.

 

 

 

> **PART ONE**

**[REBECCA’S HOUSE]**

_10am: Rebecca, still in her pyjamas, lies on her bed and tries to ignore the May sunshine as it shines relentlessly through the crack in her blinds._

“Ugh,” she mutters to herself, rubbing her eyes.

Her song writing notebook is open next to her but she's ignoring it in favour of staring intently at her iPhone. It pings to life and she gives a victorious “ha!” as the notification takes her directly to her ‘Words with Friends’ app.

_Kibbitz_

She’s giving this move a begrudgingly impressed nod when AJ starts banging on her door.

“Errr, not now AJ – I’m busy” she calls, fake brightly.

“OK,” he replies. “But you do know it’s after ten, right?”

“Yeah, thanks AJ – it’s all fine,” she sing-songs back.

“…because if you’re not at Rebetzels, and I’m not there, then nobody's there. And it’s a Tuesday... A weekday. ”

“I’m on it…thaaanks!” she says after a beat, and goes back to her phone.

She hears AJ sigh and pad back towards the kitchen. Reluctantly, she puts her phone down and moves to start getting dressed. As she’s brushing her hair, she picks her phone back up and dials Paula.

After a couple of rings Paula picks up, talking quickly: “Cookie, is everything OK?”

“Yeah fine, I was just wondering if we could chat,” mumbles Rebecca.

Paula pauses. “Erm, OK... but I’m about to go into a really big meeting, so can I call you back later? Sorry, sorry.”

“Oh, sure” Rebecca says, as Paula hangs up. She screws up her face and continues getting dressed, stuffing her notebook and phone into her bag.

As she’s leaving the house, AJ follows her to the door.

“Did you put up an advert for new staff, yet?” he asks, flatly.

“AJ, as if anyone could ever replace you” she creeps, and he snorts.

“Like I said, I’m on it” she says, this time with an edge to her tone, and leaves the house with a final slam of the door. 

 

**[REBETZEL’S]**

_Rebecca is sat staring into space not noticing Jim, who is hovering near the counter._

“Hey! Rebecca!" he calls, snapping his fingers to get her attention. 

“Oh, sorry." She walks slowly over to him.

“What is this!?” he asks, holding up a pale-looking pretzel.

“Oh, that’s my cauliflower and Gouda option.” She rolls her eyes. “I ordered a truckload of ingredients for them and it turns out nobody likes them.”

“Huh,” says Jim. “I wonder why? I’ll take a classic salt.”

Rebecca hands him the pretzel. He takes a bite and then leans forward, eagerly, saying: “By the way, did you hear about the Serrano’s reopening?”

“Wait…what?” she asks.

“Yeah, June Fourteenth. You can sit on the Mountaintop table if you like. I’m sure Darryl will be happy with you as our special guest.” He winks at her.

She does some sums in her head. “So, like… a month away”.

“Yep” Jim confirms. “So…?”

But Rebecca’s mind is elsewhere, as she stares back into space. “Er, don’t know if I’m going yet… go away Jim.”

Jim stalks off, muttering something about the standard of service dropping since his day, and Rebecca gets her phone out to call Paula. It goes straight to voicemail and she gives a frustrated sigh and hangs up.

Next, she goes back to ‘Words with Friends’ and fiddles with the settings until she can spell out _restaurant._ Greg replies almost immediately, and counters with _stratagem_ and a smiley face.

She can’t help herself and types “re-opening” in the comments. She can see Greg start to type, and then pause, and then stop. She throws her phone across the counter in frustration and reluctantly decides to do a stock-take instead – the job advert flyer, that AJ started and left out for her, remains untouched on the side. She refuses to look at it.

 

**[OUTSIDE THE MOUNTAIN TOP OFFICE]**

It’s a week later when Paula hops out of an Uber and walks briskly into the Mountaintop entrance to look for Rebecca. Given that it’s lunchtime, she’s surprised to see Rebetzel’s closed, so asks the security guard what's going on. 

“Beats me” he shrugs, unhelpfully.

Paula frowns and dials Rebecca’s number.

“Oh, hey Paula,” Rebecca answers, sleepily.

“Rebecca – are you okay? How come Rebetzel’s is closed?” She listens with narrowed eyes as Becky explains she’s had an emergency dental appointment but is coming straight back. Honest.

“Ah, okay. Well, I’ve got to head back to work now but we’ll catch up soon. Hope your teeth are okay” Paula says quietly, and rather pointedly.

 

**[REBECCA’S HOUSE]**

_It’s three days later and Rebecca is sat, again still in her pyjamas, on her couch scribbling in her notebook with her iPhone balanced on her knee._

The evening before she’d received a message from Greg explaining that he wasn’t sure if it was okay to invite her to the re-opening, given their “have some space pact”, but he’d be glad to see her if she wanted to come. She hasn't replied but since then, they’d gone back to furiously playing ‘Words with Friends.’

There’s a knock at the door and Rebecca jumps up excitedly, anticipating a delivery of some limited-edition sheet music she’d ordered. However, Paula stands in the doorway.

“Another dental emergency?” she asks with her arms folded. Rebecca cringes and tries to flash her a smile, before sighing and admitting she should be at work.

“Cookie, what’s going on?” Paula asks with concern. “I mean, it was fine ditching Whitefeather now and then, [Rebecca squints her face into a question mark at this] but your income depends on Rebetzel's.”

At the same time, Rebecca’s phone buzzes and she’s running across the room to retrieve it, ignoring Paula.

“ _Pizazz_!? No way!” she exclaims, indignantly, before realizing that Paula is staring at her sternly.

She sinks down onto the sofa and Paula comes and sits down next to her.

“I’m not doing great at Rebetzel’s at the moment” she says in a small voice. Paula is sympathizing and apologizing for having been busy but Rebecca’s attention has again returned to her phone, as she’s just through of a countermove to _Pizazz_.

“Rebecca, really?” huffs Paula.

Rebecca curls up even tighter into herself, puts her phone down on the coffee table, squirming as Paula picks it up.

“’Words with Friends’? What is this?” She stares at Rebecca. “Wait, is this Greg!?” she questions, her face clouding over.

Rebecca shrugs. “It’s just a word game, Paula.”

“Hang on, didn’t that used to be your _euphemism_ …?” Paula’s eyes widen.

“No! It’s not like that!” Rebecca cries. “Well, it was like that… but now it’s just literal word games.” She nods again and picks up her phone, pocketing it, as Paula asks if she knew Greg was back in West Covina.

“He’s re-opening Serrano’s in three weeks. Darryl invited me to go.”

“Yeah, I heard. Can’t go. My singing teacher invited me to a recital on the same night.” Rebecca says without smiling.

Paula continues looking at Rebecca."Soo...  you're playing these word games but don't plan to interact, like, face to face?" she asks, perplexed.

When Rebecca shrugs and doesn't respond, she sighs and says, “OK then, let’s get back to your business, and leave Mr Serrano out of this,” but is then interrupted by AJ arriving through the front door.

“Paula, I’m so glad you’re here” he shouts, excitedly. “You need to tell Rebecca to hire a replacement for me. I’m going off to Dartmouth soon, so can’t work full-time anymore.” He enters into a long rant about Rebecca’s difficulties at Rebetzel’s, which leaves Paula open-mouthed in astonishment.

“Oh, Cookie,” she says, putting her arm around her, protectively."We're gonna sort this out."

“Hang on, you could hire Tommy, ” she adds thoughtfully, a beat later.

“No chance,” says Rebecca’s softly into Paula’s shoulder.

 

* * *

Later, Paula sits in her car, a worried look on her face . She's working late nights all week, and has a heap of pro-bono work on the side. She feels guilty that she can’t help Rebecca. She calls Valencia, who is full of news about her upcoming engagement party, but also flat out due to it being wedding season. Valencia also tells her that Heather is away with Hector for two weeks at a surf competition.

Paula drums her fingers against the steering wheel. What can she do?

 

**[SERRANO’S RESTAURANT]**

_Greg is standing in his empty restaurant sifting through some local supplier order brochures._

He looks around the room and gives a satisfied smile. It feels good to be back in his mini Italian empire, he thinks, with a smirk at his own wit.

There’s a rap on the door and he's surprised to see Paula standing there. He invites her in and then stands awkwardly, waiting for her to begin.

“So, Greg,” she smiles. “All back here, huh? I hope everything is going well?”

He nods. “Yes, thanks.” There’s a silence so he adds: “You’ve heard about the re-opening, I guess?” He smiles awkwardly as Paula still looks at him silently. She is inscrutable, so he finds himself rambling on. “I’m just trying to decide which Parmesan to go with, actually, you wouldn't think it would be such a big decision…”

“Okay, let’s cut the small talk, Scrabble boy” Paula says at last.

Greg looks at her, baffled. “ _Scrabble boy_?”

“Yep, you need to help Rebecca… in the real world.” Paula orders. “She’s not doing great at Rebetzel’s, and, as you are part of that, I feel you owe it to her to help her.”

Greg looks indignant. “I’m what?! How?” But then it dawns on him. “Oh, Scrabble? You mean ‘Words with Friends’!” He chuckles.

“Whatever,” Paula dismisses him. “I’m in the biggest case of my life, so can’t be much help, and, anyway, didn’t you just complete a business degree?”

Greg nods proudly “From Emory”.

But then he frowns. “I’m not sure it’ll be great coming from me, Paula.”

“Please, Greg,” Paula sighs. “I hate to ask, but she really needs someone looking out for her right now.”

Greg thinks for a minute and then agrees.

Paula thanks him, and then, more relaxed now, looks back around the restaurant. “Hey, do you need any staff?” she asks. “Dishwashers? Kitchen boys? Waiters?”

Greg looks puzzled. “Maybe” he admits, cagily.

“Great, I’ll send Tommy over tomorrow to discuss his start date.” Paula beams.

“Hang on,” Greg says, holding up a hand. “Does he have, like, a resume or anything?”

“Oh Greg,” says Paula in a patronizing tone. “I’ve got a proposition for you… remember that salmon? She raises an eyebrow and Greg gives her a look which is suspicious, yet also curious.

 

**[REBETZEL’S]**

Rebecca sits at the counter staring at her phone. She's just received a message from Valencia asking her to make some pretzel-bites for her upcoming engagement party. She’s pondering this when she hears footsteps and looks up to find Greg stood directly in front of her.

He’s wearing one of his smarter green checked shirts, which looks instantly and pleasantly familiar to her, and giving her a hesitant smile.

“Hey” he says.

“Oh, hi Greg” she smiles, trying to smooth down her apron and surreptitiously trying to check her face for flour.

“I heard you were back,” she says. “So, how is everything going at Serrano’s?” she asks politely.

He smiles. “Pretty well, actually. I’ve made some tweaks to the menu, which I think are going to work really well.Finally decided on my parmesan supplier too. "

Rebecca grins back at him and has to resist the urge to yell about the thirty-four-point word she’d scored about three hours ago.

“It’s nice to see you in the flesh,” she says, and then immediately regrets.

Greg coughs, and asks, “So, how is everything going here? All’s well in the Pretzel empire?”

She nods. “Yup, all good.”

He presses again. “Cool, because you know, if, say salt prices were suddenly really high… or any other pretzel-related calamities… things happened, we could definitely chat about it. I’d be happy to.”

Rebecca looks confused before her face drops.

“Did Paula send you?” she snaps.

Greg bites his lip. “Look, maybe she mentioned…”

“Great, actually I’m fine, so no need to come in here with your fancy Emory degree and pity me.” She tries to give him a smile but the edge in her voice is impossible to ignore.

“OK,” says Greg. “Only wanted to help.” He turns to leave.

Rebecca pouts again. “I don’t need any help,” she calls. He looks back at her again, a little more frustrated this time.

“Well, it sounds like you do, Bunch.”

She stares back at him, the tension suddenly heavy between them.

“How are you getting on with your writing?” he asks quietly, after a pause. “All this can’t be helping?” He gestures around the Rebetzel’s counter.

Rebecca is still for a moment before repeating, “Everything is fine.” She then leaves the counter and walks into the back room.

 

**[OUTSIDE A SMALL THEATRE VENUE IN WEST COVINA]**

_Three weeks later, Rebecca walks out of a dark auditorium and into the car park, blinking. She’s upbeat from the concert and is talking to her teacher and some of his other students_.

 “No, no – I also find that part really tricky to get, as well” she’s saying, as she looks up to see Paula stood waiting for her.

She squeals and runs over to her. “Paula, what are you doing here!?”

“I’ve come to take you to dinner, Cookie” Paula says walking towards her car.

“I thought you were at the Serrano’s re-opening?” Rebecca asks.

“I was” Paula says. “And, that’s where I’m taking you. Rebecca, the Quattro Stagioni is to die for. Oh! And the burrata…my god, i've never seen anything like it”

Rebecca hesitates. “I dunno, Paula.”

“Come on, Cookie. Everyone’s there,” she pushes. “And besides, I need to pick Tommy up – we don’t have to stay long if you don't want to.”

Rebecca eventually reluctantly agrees and they head towards the restaurant. When they arrive it’s packed and noisy and Rebecca quickly gets pulled onto the Mountaintop table.

 “Hey!” cries Darryl. “Tommy, bring Becky a menu, please” he orders.

Fifteen minutes pass before Rebecca even sees Greg, but then he’s there, stood at the end of their table directing wait staff and taking drinks orders. He’s so busy, she gets to watch him unnoticed for a while. She takes in his dark shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a thin trace of sweat glistening on his forehead, but mostly she just sees how alive he looks, and how at home. And happy.

He finally spots her and quickly looks away but then looks back again. Smiling, he walks in her direction. She stands up.

“Congratulations!” she has to half-shout over the noise of the restaurant. He mouths back “thank-you” but then his attention is taken by another table and she’s lost him back into the busy mass of his restaurant. Sighing, she grabs a slice of pizza and looks around to find Whi-Jo staring at her, thoughtfully.

“Isn’t this great?” asks Darryl eagerly, as Tommy comes over with some fresh water jugs.

“Hey Tommy,” yells WhiJo, quickly. “Is Greg holding up OK, quite a night for him, hey?”

“Yeah, he’s doing awesome” says Tommy excitedly.

“Tommy and Greg are getting on great.” Whi-Jo explains to Rebecca.

“Ah okay.” She says, a touch confused. “Well, he always did have that weird rapport with Chris, so makes sense, I guess.”

“Good with children,” confirms Darryl.

Rebecca can feel Whi-Jo still staring at her.

“So did you add Greg to the apps last night then?” he asks Tommy.

“Oh, yeah!” Tommy laughs. “I found this perfect woman for him on Tinder. Cora Salter”

“He has been single for a while” Darryl muses.

Whi-Jo laughs and hi-fives Tommy. “Good work, man.”

Rebecca listens and tries to keep her face straight. “Sounds like everything’s coming up Greg,” she mutters to Paula, who squeezes her knee under the table.

 

* * *

When she gets home a few hours later, her phone lights up and she tiredly reaches for it. She’s surprised to find a ‘Word with Friends’ update from Greg. (They haven’t played since their Rebetzel’s run-in)

 _Vinculum:_ a bond signalling union or unity.

 

* * *

 

**PART 2 **

 

**[AN UNNAMED OUTDOOR RESTAURANT VENUE NEAR TO THE OCEAN]**

_It’s a hot day in July and Rebecca is hurriedly unloading containers out of a van and yelling directions at AJ, who is stood next to her with several boxes._

“It’s too hot for this kind of hubbub” she says, fanning herself with her shirt.

AJ agrees, and leads her to a door at what looks like the back of a kitchen.

“Rebecca!” Valencia descends on her looking immaculate in a black vest, black pants and also carrying a black clipboard. They hug and Valencia holds her face.

“Thank-you so much for doing this, Rebecca. My engagement party…can you believe it!?” she says and leads her into the kitchen.

“Ta-da” she announces, and Rebecca finds herself looking at Kevin from Homebase, Hector, and Greg.

“Oh…hey” she says.

Hector gives her a wave; Kevin gives her an unnecessary hug, and Greg nods in her direction.

Valencia spends the next five minutes giving detailed instructions and Rebecca swears she sees Greg roll his eyes.

 “Thank-you so much, guys. It means everything to have my…our engagement part so locally represented. It’s like family, so sweet.” Valencia finishes. They all acknowledge her and start moving to get on with their prep tasks.

 “Wait, Rebecca,” Valencia calls before she leaves. “Did you bring anything to wear for later because I’ve found this dress which I think will look amazing on you.” She leaves momentarily and returns clutching a dark green dress.

“Wow, thanks V,… but i…” Rebecca stutters.

“Excellent, can’t wait to see you in it later, then.” Valencia beams. Greg is smirking but then Valencia turns to him.

“And Greg, did you bring a fresh shirt like I suggested?” His face falls and he nods obediently, causing Rebecca to laugh behind her hand.

 

* * *

 

Once Valencia leaves there's a silence, and Greg takes a knife and starts methodically slicing ciabattas. Kevin starts clinking bottles around and Hector stands awkwardly with his hands in his pockets. “Heather made me do this for her,” he tells Rebecca.

The next hour passes easily enough with Rebecca concentrating on her pretzel-bites (“remember, petite and pretty” Valencia had instructed.) Most of the chatter comes typically and enthusiastically from Kevin.

She looks across at Greg a few times and watches him intently dicing tomatoes and shredding mozzarella, a dish-cloth again draped over one shoulder. He looks so familiar and Rebecca wants to join in with his jokey retorts to Kevin, but then she remembers their last conversation in Rebetzel's, and returns to looking at her workbench.

“Any cauliflower and Gouda?” Hector asks her at one point.

“No, they were not required,” Rebecca replies, quickly.

“Those things are notorious,” Hector explains with a laugh to Greg and Kevin.

Greg gives Rebecca a knowing look. “They sound… delightful.”

“OK, I know you are not a fan of the cauliflower” she says. “It was a gamble that didn’t pay off,” she adds, her tone a little touchy.

Greg notes this and watches her closely as she returns to counting out napkins, her cheeks now a deep shade of red. “What are those ones?” he asks her after a few minutes have passed.

“These are blue cheese and prosciutto” she says excitedly. “Fresh out of the oven.” She sniffs them contentedly and hands one over to Greg. "These sell really well."

“They smell great,” he says. He takes a bite. “Amazing, Kevin, come over here – you’ve got to try one of these,” he calls with his mouth full.

Kevin ambles over and Rebecca flicks them both with a tea towel, laughing. “Oi – hands off my produce. Valencia will kill us all if we’re short”

 

A short time later, Rebecca comes out of the bathroom. She’s now made-up and in the dress Valencia has chosen for her. Kevin and Hector have left the kitchen and AJ stands with some other wait staff, awaiting instructions.

“Sexy lady,” he catcalls, giving her a wink.

She flashes him a smile before checking over the boards of food and slapping him on the arm. “Go and circulate, then” she directs, puffing out her cheeks with relief.

“Wait, wait..” calls Greg, coming into the room, still buttoning up the clean shirt Valencia has made him wear. He inspects his own food, makes a tweak here and there, and frowns as he adds some more garnish to one dish. AJ raises his eyebrows.

“OK, off you guys go,” he says, eventually. He turns to Rebecca, exhales, and raises his hand for a hi-five. She slaps his hand and laughs at his uncharacteristic display of enthusiasm.

Squirming a little at himself, he then looks at her properly for the first time, noticing she’s no longer in her sweaty shirt and pants.

“Wow, you….. you got changed.” He says sheepishly.

“Er, yes” Rebecca answers, and then takes a big breath. “So, I didn’t know you were going to be here,” she says, awkwardly.

Greg nods, “... and I didn’t know you’d be here… well, technically I didn’t. But I kind of made a calculated guess you would be, which was correct” he finishes off, quickly.

“Ah,” says Rebecca. “About when we last spoke in Rebetzel’s…” she stumbles but Greg holds up his hand.

“Hey, why don’t we agree not to talk about that tonight? " he suggests. “We’ve both got a lot of stresses going on, and let’s face it, could both do with a break and maybe some fun.”

Rebecca yeps in agreement.

“Great,” says Greg. “Party mode then?” he asks walking out onto a veranda, which overlooks a vast lawn surrounded by trees covered in fairy lights and lanterns. Trestle tables nestle under the canopy over to one side, and a pianist sits playing some vintage jazz tunes. The ocean twinkles faintly in the distance.

“Oh my, I can do that,” Rebecca clutches her chest.

Greg calls a waiter over and hands her a glass of Prosecco and they cheers against his water bottle. “A pretzel-job-well-done!” he adds with a grin. 

They chat for a while, sounding very like normal friends, Rebecca tells herself. This is allowed, she thinks. Just chatting to someone who is dating other people. And I’m a business-owner whose main priority is song writing, she reassures herself. 

She asks where he's living now, and Greg lights up to tell her he’s got his own place. “I know it’s a lame goal to be proud of at my age, but it’s the first time I’ve actually lived alone.”

“That’s awesome,” she replies a little wistfully, gazing over at AJ who's still circulating food.

“I mean, it’s a little…” Greg pauses. “... Bijoux, but I like it.”

“ _Bijoux”_ Rebecca repeats. “That’s 26 points,” she says automatically.

Greg clears his throat and looks at her and there’s a silence broken only by the twinkle of the piano reaching them across the grass.

“You look great by the way” he adds, eventually.

“Yeah, not just really cool…?” she can't help but tease.

Greg grimaces. “Ugh, let’s not refer to that night, and that Greg again.”

“Yeah, it feels like eighty-million years ago,” Rebecca agrees, thoughtfully.

“Eighty-million and one”

“I’d never wear that dress now” she admits, smoothing down the dark green floral midi dress with a deep v-cut that Valencia has chosen for her

“Well, I liked it,” smiles Greg. “But this one is more Rebecca Bunch, business owner and pioneering musician.” He leans over to touch it, but can't think of a suitable place to touch, and pats her arm instead.

“Huh, my business is a mess and I don’t know if I’m going to be any good at this song writing thing” sighs Rebecca, her face turning downwards.

“Hey, don’t be like that. Party mode, remember?” Greg nudges her shoulder. “I heard your songs are coming along just fine, and plus, are you enjoying the lessons and writing?”

“Well, yes…” she says.

“Then I think that's most of the the point.”

Greg notices Valencia gesturing over at them and says “Hm, we should probably go and see what Valencia wants. That is, if the staff are allowed to mingle.”

Rebecca looks over. “Oh no, Greg,” she says, clutching his arm. “They are by the piano. She wants me to play.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” reassures Greg, leading her over to their friends. “You’ll be great or... just say no.”

“Yeush,” mutters Rebecca. “I’m so not ready for this yet.”

 

“Rebecca” Greg!” cries Valencia as she envelopes them both in a hug. “Thank-you both for the appetizers, we’re having the best time.”

“You’re welcome,” replies Greg for them both, as he feels the anxiety radiating from Rebecca.

Valencia grabs Rebecca’s hand and continues smiling sweetly. “And Rebecca, we’ve got a great surprise for you,” she says, gesturing over at the piano.

“Er, wow, Valencia! So kind?” Rebecca manages. “But [she asks the pianist’s name] Eduardo is playing so beautifully. I wouldn’t want to take it from him.”

“Not at all” bats back Valencia. “Anyway, he needs a break soon.” She beams again and Rebecca looks uncomfortable.

“Hey, maybe if she doesn’t want to, we shouldn’t force this,” adds Heather, listening nearby.

“Yeah, she probably doesn’t have anything prepared,” agrees Paula.

 Valencia’s smile fades and she folds her arms.

“Hector!” blurts out Greg, causing the group to stare at him. “You can play, right?”

“Err, yeah I guess” says Hector, sipping his beer while Heather strokes his arm.

“Great, well why don’t you play something while Rebecca has a chance to get used to the idea.” Greg suggests, nodding over at the piano. Hector looks at Heather for approval and then agrees and heads over to the piano.

“Thank-you” mouths Rebecca, while the group starts to cheer for Hector. His playing is a little rusty but he manage his way through enough crowd-pleasers to keep everyone entertained, and eventually Rebecca joins him to ad-lib a few jokey duets, the pressure lifted.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, so you’re going to tell me what that was all about, right?” asks Beth pulling Valencia aside.

“Hmm,” sighs Valencia. “I thought it’d be great if Rebecca could play for everyone tonight,” she says stiffly.

“I know you’re excited for her, but you can’t force her to play when she’s not ready.”

“Oh, I know,” Valencia admits. “I just got excited by the occasion… plus it looked like her and Greg were getting on so well.”

Beth exhales: “Look, I know you want that to happen as well, I get it, but you’ve got to let them deal with it in their own time.” She laughs. “You can’t just force Bex into serenading him with romantic ballads.”

“It’s just such a romantic and magical night... I want it to be like that for everyone.”

“I know,” Beth smiles back at her and pulls her into an embrace. “Let’s just concentrate on us.”

 

* * *

 

An hour later, Eduardo is back at the piano and the music has turned more reflective and romantic. Rebecca sits with Paula spinning her drink and gazing out at the pretty lawn and couples dancing. Scott ambles over and gestures to take his wife our onto the dance floor. Rebecca claps for them as they waltz out under the canopy.

“This would have been like crack for the me of three years ago, ” she admits, as Greg takes Paula’s vacated seat. Everyone else is coupled up and dancing in front of them.

He laughs. “I think you’d have been right, though.” He nods at the scene. “This is a good Californian party,” he acknowledges. “Valencia has good taste... these days.”

“Well, admittedly we were a part of that,” Rebecca notes, wafting a bruschetta at him. “Anyway, did Mr. I Love New York and the East Coast blah, blah, blah just praise California?”

He laughs, “Well, in terms of romantic settings, it’s not, say, Rome? But they’ve done a good job.” He moves closer to her. “So how come you didn’t want to play earlier. I know it was out of the blue..?”

“Just not ready yet. It’s personal, you know,” she replies.

Greg nods. “Well, I can’t wait to hear some when you’re ready. Tommy tells me that Paula says they are really great.”

Rebecca hoots. “I can’t believe you get all your gossip from Tommy Proctor now!” She slaps him playfully on the hand and he takes hers back in his. Her fingers are covered in tomato and olive paste from the bruschetta, so he picks up a napkin and wipes them for her. He notices a similar smudge of tomato at the corner of her mouth and has to fight the urge to wipe it off with his thumb, instead gesturing to her and handing her the napkin.

“You’re so messy, Bunch," he says as she dabs at her face.

Greg is struck by the silliness of this exchange; his mind wandering back to occasions curled up in her bed with takeaway cartons haphazardly strewn in the sheets in the small spaces between their bodies. Their naked bodies. And now he doesn’t even dare touch the corner of her mouth. Her mouth.

Her mouth which is inches away smiling at him.

“Rebecca, we should dance,” he says standing up.

“OK,” she agrees taking his arm. She loops her arms around his neck, and he pulls her body gently towards him, resting his hands on her lower back. She smiles into his neck, breathing in his familiar scent, and then dares to look at him. His hazel eyes now vividly close to her face. He smells faintly of garlic and tomatoes, but also of the soap he must have used when he changed his shirt earlier.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” she says back. They both smile and sway together for a while, before Rebecca breaks the silence:

“You know, it might be the two glasses of Prosecco I’ve had, but I’m really enjoying party mode.”

There’s a beat of silence before Greg answers. "Me too, and I haven’t any champagne.” His face is more serious as he pulls her closer and now Rebecca can’t look away, and she can feel the blood rushing to her cheeks, as the scene around her fades slowly into the background. There's also the smell of him now that's just distinctly _him_ and Rebecca inhales sharply as she recognizes it. Greg bites his lip and his hands slide up her back towards her neck and face and Rebecca’s stomach flips right down into her shoes. They are millimeters apart when a loud vibration presses against Rebecca’s leg and she can’t help but giggle.

“Shit,” mutters Greg, fumbling in his pocket for his phone. “Great timing, Serrano.” He laughs, trying to mute it but the dial is insistent. He looks around as if suddenly realizing they are surrounded by other people and where they are.

“Hey, let me just run to the bathroom and I’ll be right back and bring you a beverage,” He reaches out and quickly caresses one of Rebecca’s curls between his thumb and finger. “Me lady.”

She grins back at him and watches him walk away until she realizes she’s stood alone on a crowded dance lawn and shuffles to the side, picking up her phone. Spotting a notification, she opens Facebook and sees Valencia has tagged her and the gang in a gushy post about the party. She smiles and automatically clicks through onto Greg’s profile when she sees him listed. His most recent post is a link from 10 days ago to a short _Daily Covina_ article about the permanent reopening of Serrano’s. She’s already read it, of course, so scrolls down to look at the comments.

The latest reads: “Way to go Serrano! Can’t wait to hear more 😊x” and is from the Alice with the Emory colours in her cover photo.

Rebecca immediately clicks off Facebook and then goes straight back on it again to look at Alice’s profile. She’s rubbing her forehead and wondering if she can leave when she sees Greg coming back across the lawn towards her, carrying a glass of Prosecco and cordial. His smile fades as he notices her expression.

“Is all OK?” he asks carefully.

“Oh, yeah, I’m great... I’m just so stupid Greg.” She gestures angrily at her forehead.

“Er… what?”

“This! What’s going on here? What am I doing?”

Greg continues to look baffled. “Did I do something wrong?”

“I don’t know, did you?” she demands. “What about Alice, huh? And all your internet dates. And I am not meant to be doing…” she draws a circle in the air with her finger, “... _this_.”

“Alice??” Greg asks with a confused laugh.

“Alice from Emory” Rebecca says.

Greg looks even more confused. “How did you know there’s an Alice at Emory?”

“Because I saw her calls on your phone and she’s ALL OVER your Facebook” Rebecca spits. “But I forgot, and so, in conclusion, I need to leave”

“You went through my phone…?” Greg starts and then pauses. His next suggestion of her calming down doesn’t do much more to help matters, as Rebecca rolls her eyes and moves away from him.

“This feels real, but I know it’s not and I’m stupid and I’m sorry,” she yelps. They stare at each other in confusion for a few moments before Rebecca stalks off across the grass.

* * *

 

Left standing alone against the crowd of dancing couples, Greg stares down at the glass of Prosecco in his hand. Whi-Jo and Heather appear beside him.

“Hey, were you trying to get Rebecca drunk?” asks Heather, who is not un-tipsy herself, and takes the glass from him.

“Dude?” questions Whi-Jo.

“No,” says Greg, “that one was mostly cordial.”

Whi-Jo continues to look at him skeptically, while Heather downs the glass of fizz, “so you don’t have to” she tells him with a grin.

“We were just dancing and then Rebecca thought I was dating someone at Emory and went… well… ballistic.” Greg confesses.

“ _But..._ the two of you are just friends and anyway you’ve been internet dating so…?” Whi-Jo presses.

 Greg shrugs and says he’s going to go and get some food. He walks off and Whi-Jo gives an audible sigh. Heather laughs, advising him not to get involved.

“Dude, I was involved in Greg and Rebecca the early years and it was not fun for me,” she says.

Whi-Jo considers this for a moment and then says: “It’s OK, they’re just friends. Nothing happened.”

Heather laughs: “Sure.”

 

**[GREG’S APARTMENT]**

_Hours later, Greg lies alone on his bed, unable to sleep._

He’s still in his white shirt from earlier, although it is now creased and half undone. He drums his fingers against his phone as he runs through the evening’s events again in his mind. His phone buzzes and he tuts in frustration to discover it’s just another Facebook notification from Valencia’s party. He needs to delete that stupid Facebook app anyway, he thinks. 

Since his phone is now in his hand he can’t help flicking back to a message he’d sent Rebecca earlier, which was still unanswered.

“Hey. I think you’re confused about Alice. Being your friend is really important to me so I hope we’re okay.”

He sighs and then scrolls to his Tinder profile, staring at the Cora Salter that Tommy has picked out for him. She has straight dark hair, green eyes and a beguiling half-smile. His phone lights up in his hand and his heart thuds as he realizes it’s a ‘Word with Friends’ notification.

_Subterfuge._

Greg ponders over this for a while before his phone buzzes AGAIN.

"I've literally never been this popular," he thinks. 

This time it’s a call and he clicks to see “Alice calling”. He ignores it for a while, still thinking about Rebecca’s _subterfuge_ , before he finally rolls over off the bed and hits answer.

“Hello?” he asks.

 


	4. Being There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rebecca attempts to get back on track with her life choices and Greg receives some bad news. Rebecca also meets Greg's mom.

**[REBETZEL’S]**

_It’s two days after Valencia’s engagement party and Rebecca is sat at the counter in Rebetzel’s frowning at her laptop. She moans a little, rubbing her temples, before setting her jaw in what she hopes is a determined fashion, and quietly telling herself “you can do this, Becky!” She’s concentrating so hard she doesn’t notice Heather enter the building and approach the counter._

“Hey, friend,” Heather drawls and Rebecca looks up, briefly.

“Oh, hey, Heath. How’s it going?”

“Heather. Not bad,” she answers and walks around to Rebecca’s side of the counter. There are several spreadsheets open on the screen and Heather leans in to study them more closely. “Yo, heeeey, that’s a lot of red there,” she yelps.

Rebecca puts her head in her hands. “I know” she moans and then sneaks a look at Heather from behind her hands. “Ugh, I’ve been in such denial about this. I’ve meant to have been doing better but I’ve just been swanning around parties and playing games and you know, sometimes even writing songs.” She sighs dramatically again and adds “…and now I really need to get on top of this.”

“So, it’s okay. I’m here to help you,” says Heather raising her eyebrows at Rebecca’s melodrama.

Rebecca looks at her unsurely. “No, you don’t need to…” she begins before Heather puts her hand on her arm and cuts her off. “It’s okay, I’m a _manager_ , remember.”

Rebecca smiles at this and then agrees to her help, nodding, reluctantly.

“Yeah, and also I’ve got you a replacement for AJ if you still need it. I’m assuming you haven’t replaced him yet?”

Rebecca looks sheepish.

“No, it’s just that he’s been here from the beginning and I can’t imagine the place without him, and let’s admit it, he practically runs the joint” she says.

“Well, Deena from Homebase needs more hours than I can give her and you know she’s a hard worker” Heather offers.

Rebecca gasps in excitement, as Heather adds, “Plus, she’s worked there, like, since Greg first started. I’m sure she’ll have this place sorted out for you in no time.”

At the mention of Greg’s name Rebecca winces in embarrassment. “Oh, I totally weirded out all over Greg at Valencia’s party. I was doing so well with my ‘no guy’ thing but then everything got all hard and confusing and stressful …” She looks downbeat. “Poor Greg,” she adds, softly.

“You know, I think he’s coping,” Heather tells her. “I saw him yesterday and he seems very much the same old Greg. He was arguing with Tommy about olives.”

“He was?” Rebecca asks raising her eyebrows. “Yup, well that’s great. Good for him…” She pauses for a moment before deciding to change the subject and returning her attention to her laptop, and asks Heather some questions about payroll.

“Thank you for this, Heather, ” she says after a while, earnestly. “I’m so glad Paula asked you to come help me.”

Heather blinks. “Yup, Paula, that’s right,” she replies, accepting Rebecca’s hug and feeling pleased to hide her face in her shoulder.

Later, as Heather leaves Rebetzels, she pulls out her phone to make a call. “Paula, he was right, ” she exclaims. “She’s still in trouble and has been trying to cover it for the last, like, month that Rebetzel’s is doing fine.” She pauses to listen to Paula’s reply and then laughs. “Oh, yeah, I’m on it,” she answers.

 

 

**[HOMEBASE]**

_A week or so later, Greg is sat at the bar drinking a diet soda and facing Hector and Chris. Heather is behind the bar trying not to listen to them._

“Dude, you really need to go on that Tinder date,” advises Chris looking sternly at Greg.

Greg sips his soda. “I fully intend to,” he says. “I’ve just been a bit busy, y’know... running my own restaurant and looking after my sick father takes up a lot of time.”

Chris scoffs. “And mooning about after Rebecca…” he needles.

“No,” Greg says, shaking his head. “Rebecca and I are just friends. She’s got a lot going on, you know that buddy.”

Heather can’t help but interrupt. “Err, that’s not quite what it looked like at Valencia’s party the other night...?” She raises an eyebrow at him and Hector and Chris laugh in appreciation.

“See!” Chris almost shouts at him. “You guys nearly kissed!”

Greg looks uncomfortable. “Chris, we’re not 17. We just danced together and then there was some confusion and err…” He tails off.

“That’s not your fault.” Hector says. “Valencia probably put a spell on you or something.” All three of his companions stare at him and Heather shakes her head. “No, baby” she mouths.

“What?” asks Hector. “You know Valencia is into them getting together and she can be very persuasive. And, you know she’s previously done occulty stuff.” He looks at Heather. “Remember the séance?” he whispers.

“Well, regardless of Valencia’s supernatural abilities, no-one is ‘getting together’” says Greg. “I respect Rebecca and her choices”. He nods. “It is possible to be just friends with a woman,” he says in a condescending tone to Chris.

Chris laughs. “Whatever, but you told her she’s the love of your life not six months ago, I just don’t buy it, bro.”

Greg shushes him but Heather has already clocked this and makes a mental note to bring it up with Hector later. Outwardly, she manages to keep a straight face and continues flicking through her ordering book.

“As one does,” mutters Greg to himself before taking his phone out of his pocket and placing it on the bar. “Fine, I’m going to instigate the Tinder flirt right now,” he says.

“Yes!” fist pumps Chris and he high-fives Hector. He takes Greg’s phone. “Here, let me show you how it works. ‘Cara Salter’” he says, swiping right. “Man, I’ve got to text Tommy about this.”

 

**[REBECCA’S APARTMENT]**

_The next day Rebecca is sat at her piano stool with a pen in hand, staring intently at the sheet of music in front of her. Paula, Heather, and Valencia are sprawled in various places around her living room, keeping her company._

“Hmm, I’m not sure how good this is…” she says turning to face Paula.

“No, honey. Keep going, you’re doing so well,” Paula says, encouragingly, and Heather and Valencia make similar noises of support.

She plays a few more notes before stopping again and putting her head in her hands. “It’s just, I feel embarrassed,” she confesses. “I made the choice to do this and then I nearly messed it all up again.”

“Cookie, you are fine,” repeats Paula.

Rebecca gives her a skeptical look. “I nearly kissed Greg, Paula. Remember, I told him that I needed time alone, and then not six months later, I’m back at it… back reeling him into my web.”

She makes a fishing reel gesture with her hands.

“I think you’re mixing your metaphors,” notes Heather.

“So, all that happened is that you nearly kissed?” Valencia asks.

Rebecca nods.

“And you haven’t followed up with any other kind of…err…unusual behaviour?” asks Paula, carefully.

“Nope.”

"No texts, phone calls, snapchats or other, er, stalking type activities directed at this Alice?"

"Nope,"

Paula laughs, relieved. “Then honey, as I said, I think you’re doing fine.”

“Yeah, it just sounds like you and Greg had a semi-romantic moment, which then made you reflect on your priorities,” adds Heather.

“It’s not really surprising given the situation. It’s not that long since you had feelings for Greg and then you were in a very romantic setting and all your friends were coupled up,” Paula says. Valencia smile serenely at her but doesn’t say anything.

“I know, but I’m off guys,” Rebecca says again.

“Honey, I don’t think you need to get yourself a chastity belt,” says Paula, kindly. “I mean starting something up with Greg again is probably not a good idea, per se, but don’t rule out your options.”

“Yeah, anyway Greg has got a Tinder date for the weekend.” Heather suddenly remembers. When she sees Rebecca’s face fall, she adds, “I think you should channel these, like, guy emotions into your song writing. Use them for good.”

Rebecca considers this for a moment and then says, “That’s a good point. Like, I can’t get rid of the feels altogether, but I can always ignore them, or like push them into fuel for my song writing.” She screws up her face.

“Exactly!” says Paula, excitedly.

Rebecca smiles, her conscience reasonably satisfied, and turns back to her keyboard. She’s not been entirely honest with the girls. Of course, feelings for her exs have come up before in her song writing. It’d be impossible to write about her time in West Covina without reflecting on her feeling for Josh, Nathaniel, and Greg. The lyrics for her emotions around Josh and Nathaniel, she’s found, have come easily to her. She can process them and tie up the ideas neatly into a melody. Her feelings around Greg are a lot more unclear to her and she’s struggling to get the words down on paper; to frame exactly what she wants to say. The proximity of Greg’s face from the party a few days earlier appears in her mind.

She plays a few further notes on the keyboard.

“This one is like… it’s about that feeling of having to reflect on a situation and make a mature decision, even though you don’t want to, because you know it’s best for the both of you,” she explains.

“Sounds complicated,” says Heather, while Paula nods in agreement. Valencia just smiles again, and Heather looks at her suspiciously.

“So, that could be relevant to any of your past relationships?” speculates Heather.

“Yeah, I guess,” Rebecca says but she looks unconvinced, trying to shake the image of an airport from her mind. “It’s like cutting through the bullshit and identifying that your dysfunction is not good for anyone and you, like, need to sort your own stuff before you can be in relationship,” she says with feeling, before scribbling some more notes. She plays more and then looks hesitant again.

“I don’t know about that last lyric. I don’t think it’s good.”

“I liked it. Take it easy on yourself,” says Heather quietly munching on popcorn.

“Yeah, I think it’s catchy and I have great taste,” Valencia chimes in.

Paula bounces a giant pink bunny on her knee. “Yeah, keep going. You’re doing great, honey,” she confirms with an encouraging smile.

Rebecca looks relieved and returns to her notebook. “ _Lingua franca_ ” she mutters to herself with a thoughtful look

**[SERRANO’S RESTAURANT]**

_Heather enters the restaurant, pulling Rebecca in behind her._

“Don’t be weird, we’re just picking something up and you guys are friends, remember,” she hisses at Rebecca.

It’s that time between lunch and dinner and they are greeted by an empty restaurant except for Tommy, who nods a “’sup” at them. He continues polishing cutlery without removing his earbuds and Rebecca notes that Greg is not present.

“Well, I guess we’ll just wait here then,” says Heather dumping her bag on a table near the kitchen. She goes around by the bar and digs around in a cupboard, searching for something. “Here!” she says, victoriously, and emerges brandishing a jar of bread-sticks.

Tommy looks over and takes out his earbuds but then shrugs in defeat. He chats to them about Paula and Brendan, while Heather and Rebecca sit munching contraband bread-sticks.

About ten minutes pass, and then Greg walks out of the back into the restaurant and does a double-take.

“Oh…hi,” he says.

“What, you’ve been here the whole time?” asks Heather in surprise. They both look over at Tommy.

“What?” he says defensively. “You never asked if Greg was here.”

“Tommy,” says Greg, slowly. “Next time I have visitors just assume and come and get me, regardless, okay?”

Rebecca chuckles and Greg turns to her with an eyebrow raised. “Helping yourself to my produce I see?”

She looks uncomfortable, but then he laughs and turns back to Tommy, examining his work. “I swear if he wasn’t Paula’s son he’d be long gone by now," he mutters.

Rebecca laughs again, and takes another bread-stick.

“Yes, please help yourself to more,” says Greg, only half-sarcastically. Before she can reply, Heather butts in to remind Greg about the book for Hector.

“Oh, yeah, I’ll get it,” replies Greg and offers them a coffee.

“Sure,” answers Rebecca, while Heather simultaneously says, “no, we only came in to pick up the book.” She stares awkwardly at Rebecca. “Oh, okay then,” she agrees, reluctantly, and Greg disappears back into the kitchen.

Heather gives Rebecca a very skeptical look, so she turns back to taking to Tommy, trying to ignore Heather.

While they wait for their coffee, a well-groomed, middle-aged brunette woman enters and looks around, expectantly. Rebecca stares at her; there’s something familiar about her she can’t quite place.

“Shauna? Hey,” says Heather in realization, after a moment or two. The woman does a double-take and then comes over to Heather.

“Wow, hi Heather. It’s been a long time,” she says, warmly.

Rebecca is mouthing “Shauna” to herself as the woman continues. “I heard you married Hector, congratulations. Small world, hey?” She takes Heather’s hand and then asks, “Now, where’s my son?”

“Your son? ” exclaims Rebecca, letting out a gasp. “You’re Greg’s mom!?” she’s asking as Greg himself re-enters the restaurant. He greets his mom and then notices Rebecca’s visible aura of excitement.

“So, mom, this is my, er, friend Rebecca Bunch,” he says standing between them. “Mom, Rebecca, Rebecca, mom.”

“It’s so nice to meet you,” gushes Rebecca, practically lunging towards Shauna.

“Ah, yes,” Shauna replies, quietly. She looks Rebecca up and down. "I remember hearing about you. How do you do?” she asks, stiffly, before turning back to Greg.

She asks him about a reservation for the next evening, and beams as he confirms the booking. “The place looks great by the way.”

“Thanks, mom,” He looks genuinely pleased. “Hey, tell Mason and Lily to drop in any time. Pizza is on the house.”

“I will,” she replies. “Lily is up to her neck in college applications, so I’m she’ll appreciate it.”

Rebecca’s ears prick up at the mention of college applications. “College!?” she asks. “Where’s she thinking of applying?”

Shauna replies with a few schools including Princeton.

Rebecca looks impressed. “If she needs any help with applications, I’d love to help,” she offers. “I only mention it because it’s relevant, but I actually went Harvard and Yale, so I’m pretty pro with the forms.” She finishes with a nervous laugh and Heather shakes her head at her.

Shauna thanks her and then says, “That’s kind but I’m sure Lily will manage, she’s got lots of help from people she knows. Greg himself can help and he went to Emory, which, I’m sure you’ll know, is a great school…”

Greg laughs awkwardly, and before his mom can refer to the ‘Harvard of the South,’ he says quickly, “Anyway, looking forward to seeing you guys tomorrow.”

Shauna looks at her watch. “Shoot, gotta jet." She bids a friendly goodbye to Heather, and sends a “hope you’ll be here tomorrow,” Tommy’s way. Rebecca gets a small nod.

“And, Greggy,” she says, moving in to hug him, “Any time you need anything regarding your father, you know where we are. Don’t be afraid to ask and please keep us updated.” She pats him on the back and smiles at him again before leaving.

“Greg, your mom hates me,” Rebecca bursts out as the door slams behind Shauna. Greg makes an ambiguous noise and squirms a little. "I wouldn't say hate, per se..."

“She didn’t even listen to my advice about colleges…” says Rebecca in disbelief.

“You can help with my college application,” Tommy offers.

Rebecca ignores him. “I don’t get it,” she says again to Greg.

Greg bites his lip in embarrassment. “Well, she may have heard, let’s say, reports that could have been less than favourable,” he admits.

“From Marco…?” Rebecca asks, aghast.

“God, no” Greg replies quickly. “Probably from Lourdes Chan. Oh and Whi-Jo. And maybe Hector’s mom.”

Heather laughs at this. “Well she loves me,” she adds, unhelpfully.

Rebecca gives her a glare. “I can’t believe it. Oh.. and also, what’s wrong with Marco?” she asks as an afterthought.

Greg starts to tell her that his emphysema isn’t great but is then interrupted by a phone call that he moves to take.

Rebecca swears she hears the name “Alice” but then Heather is grabbing her bag and moving her towards the door. “Time to go,” she instructs.

Rebecca looks back at Greg, frowning. She tries to smile and gives him a wave and he waves back at her, distractedly.

 

**[HOMEBASE]**

A couple of days later Rebecca enters the bar with her notebook sticking out from her bag. She’s still thinking about her run-in with Greg’s mom, and this has stirred up old feeling about her relationships with Josh’s family and Nathaniel’s father, although she only met him a few times. “I do miss the warm embrace of a loving Filipino family,” she admits to herself.

She ducks into a booth, not noticing Hector and Whi-Jo sat at the bar, and remains lost in thought until Josh strides into the bar. He has a uncharacteristically stressed expression and she watches him curiously as he approaches Hector and Whi-Jo. Hector puts his hand on Josh’s arm and looks upset.

Rebecca can’t help herself, and so walks over to them. She hears Josh saying, “I didn’t know what to say, he was so upset. I’ve known him practically my whole life and I didn’t know what to do.”

“I’m sure he appreciated you going, buddy,” replies Whi-Jo, reassuringly.

Concern starts to override Rebecca's curiosity.

“Hey guys,” she says, trying to keep her voice steady. “What’s going on? Who’s upset?? ”

Whi-Jo rolls his eyes. “Great, just what we need.”

“Hey Bex,” Josh says. “It’s Greg, he’s…er…” he trails off.

“Marco died,” says Hector, bluntly, and Whi-Jo tuts at him.

“Oh my god” she says, grabbing the stool next to Josh. “I didn’t know he was that sick.” Her vision goes blurry and she thinks back to Shauna hugging Greg in Serrano’s; about Greg coming back for Nathaniel’s leaving party and some “family stuff”; and then further back to a night in her old apartment.

_“He’s always been there for me, my whole life. The only person, actually.”_

“I’ve gotta go and see him,” she announces, jumping up, not listening to the guys’ noises of objection. She’s already heading out the door when Whi-Jo calls after her: “Fine! Just be careful.”

**[GREG’S APARTMENT]**

_There’s a hammering on Greg’s door and he wearily opens it to find Rebecca stood blinking at him. She’s carrying a bag of food in one hand and a bottle in the other._

“Tacos and ginger ale?” she volunteers, proffering both towards him.

“Sure,” he says after a pause and invites her in with a simple nod of his head.

She looks searchingly at him. His curls are messy and there are dark creases shadowing his eyes, which look a little bloodshot. “It’s okay I’m here...?” she asks, hesitantly.

He nods, a smile momentarily playing around his lips. “I guess you heard then?”

“Yes,” she moves towards him. “Greg, I’m so sorry,” she says, her voice breaking a little. He looks at her so vulnerably that she reaches her arms around his neck and pulls him into an embrace. He rests his head on her shoulder, breathing her in, relieved for a moment, before breaking away and leading her into the kitchen.

“Don’t want the food getting cold,” he adds. While he digs around for plates, Rebecca has time to study his apartment.

It’s small but neat, with an open-kitchen and breakfast bar leading into a small sitting area with a sofa, TV, and two armchairs. Behind the TV is an overstuffed bookcase, where she can make out a row of hardbacks that she assumes are business textbooks and cookbooks. Above these are shelves of Greg’s paperbacks, which she immediately itches to examine. There are two doorways off the small entrance hallway; one of which is presumably the bathroom, and then the other, his bedroom door, is slightly ajar. She peeks towards this but then freaks out and heads back in the direction of the kitchen.

There are more homely touches than she expected, with fresh herbs growing on the windowsill, and plants and succulents dotted around the lounge, as well as framed black and white photos of Italy on the walls. She laughs to see a mounted fish on one wall and Greg notices.

“Moving in gift from Heather and Hector,” he admits with a giggle. His laugh is a little more frantic than usual, Rebecca notes with a rising feeling of concern.

“So,” she asks, carefully, perching on a bar stool. “How are you doing?”

“Oh, I’m fine. Yup, yup. Pretty much fine,” he replies, glibly. He pauses and then laughs again. “He was a shitty father anyway. You of all people should know that, " he adds, pointedly, before turning around to hand Rebecca her tacos. He staggers a little and grabs hold of the chair next to her to steady himself.

“Greg…” Rebecca begins and then stops as she catches sight of a bottle of liquor on the corner of the counter. She stutters and Greg collapses on the chair next to her with his hands covering his face. She gets up and walks over to the bottle. The cap is loose and a small amount evidently has been drunk.

“I drank it,” he admits, not looking up. “It tasted disgusting, actually, but I couldn’t help it.”

Rebecca nods. “Oh,” she says, unsure of what else to say. “Do you want me to tip the rest?”

He agrees, and after a pause, adds, “It’s a fine Scotch. Used to be his favourite, you know, before he got old and broke and drank whatever shit was cheapest.”

She pours the rest down the sink before walking back to Greg and rubbing his back.

“I can’t believe I drank it,” he says, ruefully, from behind his hands.

“But you also stopped,” she replies. “You aren’t drunk.” She moves his hands from his face and looks firmly at him. “Listen to me Greg, it's okay... " He stares at the table for a while before giving a small "true" of acknowledgement. "Do you want me to call anyone....like that Biker guy?" Greg shakes his head.

Rebecca pauses. "Okay, now, let’s have those tacos before they get cold," she suggests instead, and they move over to the couch and sit together with plates on their knees.

Greg steals a small look and smile at her while she fiddles with the remote to find Netflix.

It starts playing at a particularly dark scene of _Apocalypse Now_ , so she clicks back to the menu screen. “Perhaps something a little less traumatic?” she proposes, and Greg grunts in agreement.

“Okay, Coppola’s out then,” he says.

“And no Godfather. I do not need to hear your Marlon Brando impression again,” she cajoles.

“Yeah, I kinda covered that with the blanket-Coppola ban,” teases Greg. “Okay then, well no damn rom-coms.”

“I wasn’t going to suggest any,” Rebecca squawks. She suggests nature documentaries instead and Greg agrees, so they sit companionably eating their tacos and making the occasional comment about a weird animal, or doing a requisite David Attenborough impression.

* * *

 

After a while, Rebecca’s phone pings. “Ah, shoot,” she says picking it up and Greg looks at her, curiously. “I forgot I had a music lesson tonight,” she explains.

Greg starts to protest, telling her she can leave but she declines. “I can rearrange it.”

After a few more minutes of silence, he says “Rebecca... thanks for being here.”

She continues looking at the TV. “That’s okay,” she says softly.

“You, err, … you didn’t have to,” Greg also continues looking at the TV.

“I wanted to,” she replies, this time turning to look at him. “And, I also feel like if it was the other way around... then I know you'd be here for me.”

He holds her gaze and then nods back at her. “Fuck, I’m going to miss him,” he says eventually, and Rebecca squeezes his hand. She asks him a few questions about the funeral and Greg replies and then adds, “I think Alice will probably be quite helpful about that side of things.”

As soon as she hears the name Alice, Rebecca sits bolt upright. “Oh god,” she says. “I forgot again, about Alice…I...”

Greg leans back against the sofa, watching her with a wry look.

“Hang on,” she demands. “Why isn’t Alice here now?” She pokes Greg in the arm, annoyed to find him laughing at her.

“Rebecca…” he laughs. “… Alice is Marco’s nurse.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah,” he continues, laughing, “I didn’t explain because I was mad at you for going through my phone, and also I didn’t want to involve you in his illness, but that’s why she kept ringing.”

“But... but I thought she was at Emory?” she asks, still confused.

“Oh, there was an Alice at Emory but I hardly knew her. I did tell you we weren’t dating,” he explains.

Rebecca looks put out but then laughs. “Oh my god,” she exhales, shaking her head so her curls bounce. "So, Alice is like an old nurse?"

Greg laughs. "She's 58 and has grandchildren." Rebecca makes an "oohhh", then she shuffles back towards Greg and pulls a blanket from the back of the sofa over them both.

“I like this next one, it’s about whales,” she tells him, contentedly, pressing play on Netflix.

* * *

 

A few hours later Rebecca wakes to find herself still on Greg’s couch, with Netflix still playing quietly in the background, the room dark except from the light from the TV. She realizes she’s lying against Greg’s chest with his arm loosely wrapped around her waist and one hand resting on her hip. She'd fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder and they'd naturally relaxed into this more intimate position.

She shifts slightly, trying to get into a better position to look down at him. He’s breathing quietly but steadily, and his dark t-shirt has ridden up to reveal a glimpse of his hair-covered stomach above his jeans. Smiling, she recognizes his t-shirt from before (a black one with a shark fin on the pocket) and can’t help noticing it clings to him a bit more snugly now -- his muscles more defined from recent gym sessions. He must be wearing it for comfort because it no longer fits the slightly smarter business-owner clothes he wears these days. His lips are slightly parted, and she sees again the dark shadows around his eyes.

He looks sad and she wants to make him feel better. She wants to fight away all his sorrow for him. She misses him. He looks beautiful sleeping -- she’d forgotten that. He also smells _so_ good. She can’t resist reaching down and smoothing one of the curls which has fallen over his forehead.

His eyelashes flutter and he looks up sleepily at her. “Hey,” he says groggily, his hazel eyes squinting to make her out in the half light.

She smiles and he grabs the hand which is near his face and pulls her closer to him. “I’m glad you’re still here,” he says in a low voice, and they stare at each for a few moments before leaning into one another, lips finally touching. The kiss is soft at first but then Rebecca shifts again so she’s almost lying on top of him and it hardens. Greg pulls her hungrily towards him, his hands cupping her face and then finding her neck and hair. She moans gently as his lips touch her neck and she slides her hand under his t-shirt, pressing firmly into his skin before sliding up to his own neck and face.

They continue, until Rebecca’s hands are at Greg's waist searching for his belt buckle. He catches her hand in his and then runs his own hand along her hip, tracing a fingertip just under the top of her pants. She moans slightly, sensitive to his touch and he then leans back, hesitates, and sighs, pulling her up to his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure…” he breathes, whispering into her hair.

“Hey, it’s okay,” she says, kissing him more softly this time. He smiles at her and runs a hand gently through her curls. She lies back quietly against his chest, listening to his heat beating, and they eventually both fall asleep again.

 

* * *

 

The next time she wakes up it’s morning and she has a crick in her neck. “Ow,” she murmurs, rubbing it.

Greg is still lying half-sprawled under her with his head against a sofa cushion. Again, he looks so good that she briefly considers waking him with her cleavage strategically placed, in attempt of trying to finish what they’d started the night before. But then she remembers the situation, and instead puts her shirt on, carefully extracts herself from the sofa, and pads to the kitchen to make some coffee.

She’s looking at some old photos of Serrano’s on the kitchen wall, when Greg stirs and appears beside her. “Morning,” he says, rubbing his eyes. His hair is sticking up in all directions in a way that is impossible not to be cute.

“Hey, look there’s a piano in this one,” she points, trying to ignore the obvious appeal and intimacy of his just-woken-up look.

“Oh, yeah, that was my uncle’s.” Greg squints. “Dad loved Sinatra but couldn’t play a damn note.”

Rebecca is asking him if they still have it, when the buzzer for his apartment goes. She immediately stands up and straightens her hair and shirt, while Greg walks towards the door.

It’s Shauna.

“Oh, Greg,” she cries enveloping him in a long hug. It seems eons before she pulls away and notices Rebecca.

“Oh, hello Rebecca,” she says, in surprise. She continues to look conflicted as Greg makes her a coffee, and sends Rebecca fleeting looks as she peppers Greg with questions.

“Mom, Rebecca came over to keep me company,” Greg tells her, his tone blank.

“Ah, that’s great,” Shauna replies, sounding like she doesn’t fully believe it.

Rebecca finishes her coffee and announces she needs to go and open up Rebetzel’s.

“Greg, if you need anything, just text me or come and see me. Or, I can text you?" She pauses awkwardly. “Just feel better, okay?” she says and Greg gives her a soft smile across the table and mouths “thank you.” Rebecca makes to leave, and then turns around again and looks back at Greg. She hesitates, before turning back towards the door.

Shauna watches this unfold, a small frown on her face, until Rebecca reaches the door and then she darts up after her.

“Rebecca?” she calls. Rebecca turns and Shauna pulls her into a tight hug.

“Thank you for being here,” she says, quietly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Again, this was longer than I meant it to be!  
> N.B - Rebecca's songs aren't meant to be literally the songs from the show, just versions loosely based around the same themes.  
> I was also playing around with the idea from this article [ https://www.vulture.com/2019/04/crazy-ex-girlfriend-9-toughest-songs.html ] in that Greg songs are tough to write.


	5. Moms and Thanksgiving redux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What will Rebecca do for Thanksgiving? Greg and Rebecca continue to be too busy to talk about their feelings but instigate some new habits. Moms continue to Mom.

**[OUTSIDE GREG’S APARTMENT]**

_Two days after spending the night at Greg’s, Rebecca is once again in the street outside his apartment. She clears her throat and takes a deep breath before reaching out to press the buzzer…_

Greg answers with an arch "hello?" and she gives a perky “Hey, it’s Rebecca” before bounding up the stairs. He’s already waiting for her when she reaches his door, leaning against the door frame with a slight smirk aimed right at her.

“Hey, just wanted to check how you… how things are?” she asks him.

He starts to asks her if phones have been invented but then his smile fades. “Not really, sure how to answer that yet” he says. His eyes are still warm.

She’s about to reply when a voice calls out from inside the apartment. “Hello Rebecca.”

Whi-Jo.

Greg moves aside to let her in, and she walks into the kitchen to find Whi-Jo eyeing her, suspiciously. “’Sup?” he asks, in a neutral tone.

She says hey, and flashes her teeth at him in what she hopes is a charming way.

“So, I had some leftover pretzels and thought I’d bring them on over.” She turns back to Greg. “Check you were getting enough sustenance.” She pokes him in the arm

His face is more guarded now, aware of Who-Jo, as he takes the bag and peeks inside. “Ooh, cheesy ones, salty ones…” He takes one out and sniffs appreciatively. “Mozzarella and Prosciutto. Totally my favourite.”

“Oh, they were just some leftovers I didn’t want to go to waste,” Rebecca blushes. [They weren't, naturally they were ones she’d selectively picked out in front of an amused AJ earlier.]

Greg tears into one noisily, as Rebecca notices a pot of Asian-looking food sitting on the counter. “Do I smell Filipino?” she asks, sniffing the air.

“A Lourdes Chan special,” replies Whi-Jo, with his arms still folded.

“Yeah, Josh brought it over earlier. He also brought his new girlfriend, which was kinda weird, actually, but she seems nice,” Greg adds. He watches her carefully, but she has no problem keeping her face straight.

“Oh, yeah, I hear they are inseparable,” she replies with a grin. “Perform any magic for ya?”

“Thankfully, we were spared any of Josh’s card tricks,” Greg barbs. “Y’know, I’m finding bereavement gets you out of a lot.”

Rebecca chuckles, and Whi-Jo says, semi-defensively, “Buddy is trying, but he’s still got a way to go with his sleight of hand.”

Greg looks like he’s going to snark, but then smiles instead. “Actually, good for him. I’m glad he seems happy,” he says, not taking his eyes off Rebecca. She can, however, also feel Whi-Jo’s eyes boring into her, so says:

“Anyhoo, I need to scoot because I need to go back to work.” She grins. “Turns out you actually need to be there when you own the business.” As she turns to leave, she sports a copy of the Daily Covena folded over, with a picture of Marco visible. His obituary.

She quickly leans towards Greg and knots her arms around him. “Hey, I’m glad you’re doing okay," she whispers, and he returns the hug, resting his head on her shoulder, eyes closed with his hands spread on her back. After an extended moment, Whi-Jo clears his throat.

* * *

 

She’s out on the street, not yet at her car, when she hears Whi-Jo calling her name. “Oh, god” she sighs, not relishing a confrontation.

He catches up to her in two easy strides. “So…” he starts, and Rebecca screws up her face.

“Look, I come in peace” he holds his palms toward s her.

“Oh,”

“Yes, I did not want you any where near Greg, for obvious reasons, but I’ve gotta say thanks for telling me about the other night.”

“Hmm, you’re welcome,” she says, cautiously, wondering if Greg has mentioned their middle-of-the-night-makeout session to Whi-Jo.

“Yeah, so he’s been in touch with Guardrail, and I really think everything is okay in _that_ regard.”

“That’s great,” she answers.

[Apparently Greg has not mentioned the making out.]

“So, you did great…but, uh, it’s the funeral on Friday and I think it’d be for the best if you were discreet there.”

She nods.

He gives her a look “Yup, I think that’d be best for your _friendship_ ” he says, with emphasis on the word friendship.

[Maybe Greg, has mentioned the makeout, afterall.]

 

* * *

 

 

She goes to the funeral, but she slips in just before it starts and sits near the back with Paula and Tommy. She sees Greg flanked by Whi-Jo, Hector and Josh – the bonds of childhood friendship stronger than ever in a time of need. Chris is also there, and a burly looking guy with grey hair she assumes is Guardrail. And, as credit to Greg’s recent attempts to build bridges in his life, he now has his mom there for support, along with two overwhelmed looking teens she guesses are his step-siblings.

As she can’t see Greg’s face during the service, she watches his back intently, trying to deduce what she can from the measure of his breathing, or how he’s holding his shoulders. When he slumps into Whi-Jo at one point, Rebecca squeezes Paula’s hand, tight.

She doesn’t linger after the service. She knows the situation is complicated – what platitudes can she offer about Marco which won’t cause everyone watching (and they will be watching) to exchange knowing looks. They all know what happened. She does stay long enough to lock eyes with Greg. His eyes find hers across the crowded reception room and he gives her the smallest of nods, the corners of his mouth turning slightly upwards. It’s enough.

 

**[TWO AND A HALF MONTHS LATER]**

_Rebecca sits at a high table in the Winebar on Foothill stirring the ice in her gin and tonic. She has her phone and a music book propped open in front of her, but, based on the way she keeps scanning the bar and looking up every time someone new enters, she’s clearly waiting for someone. After a while, she seems to give up hope and so doesn’t notice when Paula enters and marches over to her._

“Cookie!” she yells, grabbing her by the shoulders, and Rebecca jumps five feet in the air.

“God, Paula,” she says, surreptitiously looking around.

Paula apologizes. “I just needed to show you this. Me and Scott have just booked!” she cries, pushing her phone excitedly into Rebecca’s face.

Rebecca takes in pictures of pristine white-sand beaches and sparkling turquoise waters. “Woah, what is this?” she gasps.

“Zanzibar,” Paula breathes, eyes bulging. “Can you believe it? Tommy’s never been out of the country... ”

“It shows” quips Rebecca. She squeals loudly and throws herself at Paula.

“This will be the first Thanksgiving we get to spend without Scott’s stupid relatives in sooo long, and I can’t _wait_ to see Brendan.”

“Wait, Thanksgiving…?” Rebecca asks. “You’re going over for Thanksgiving?”

Paula answers in the affirmative and explains it’s easier with her vacation dates.

“That makes sense” says Rebecca but her face still falls. “Just thought we might spend it together... but I’m really happy for you; I’ll probably be working anyway.” She plays with her hair.

Paula looks a little bit guilty and pats her arm consolingly, but Rebecca reassures her she understands and tries to smile. In reality, her heart sinks. She spends so much of her downtime with Paula now that she’d taken the holidays for granted. She’s half-listening as Paula suggests she could hang with Heather or visit Valencia and Beth. “Or,” Paula continues, “you could always go to New York and visit…”

“Don’t’ say it.” Rebecca cuts her off.

Paula sighs but doesn’t get a change to say anything else as Greg enters the bar and Rebecca’s attention immediately shifts towards him. She watches as Rebecca quickly adjusts her posture and how her face breaks into a smile as he approaches their table.

“Can I?” he asks, already sitting down.

Rebecca acquiesces and Paula remembers, “Oh god, I need to go and pick up Tommy, don’t I?” But she stays, slowly drinking her wine.

“Yup, we don’t really allow the staff to sleep over,” Greg quips.

Rebecca smiles. Paula is unaware, but Sunday encounters have become a bit of a habit between her and Greg. Rebetzels is closed, her new roommate works, and she prefers to write somewhere with people in the background, so she often finds herself in Homebase or the Wine bar. Serrano’s also closes on Sunday evenings, and so Greg leaves the junior staff to close-up after lunch and usually finds himself in Homebase or the Wine bar [drinking soda or seltzer, obviously] as his apartment is crushingly small sometimes.

They never speak of this new routine, and it’s never pre-arranged, so on occasion Greg will be in Homebase and Rebecca at the Winebar, or vice-versa, and they miss each other. These occasions usually lead to an afternoon playing 'Words with Friends' instead. They have also never mention the night Marco died and what happened then.

Rebecca ignores all this right now, and offers Greg a food menu, but he refuses patting his stomach. “This tum is full,” he says. “I just had lunch with my mom, actually.” [That’s why he was late, thinks Rebecca.]

“Your mom”? Paula asks. “Didn’t know you were close.” She looks mildly impressed.

“Well, we haven’t been. But I’m trying this thing where I try and build bridges with people. Part of my recovery,” Greg explains.

Rebecca bounces in her seat. “She seems really great. I'd love to get to know her. "

“Yeah, I may have been misled about her,” Greg admits. “And she’s been really supportive about the restaurant and everything since the funeral. I can even overlook the McMansion and the fact she still calls me Greggy.” He smirks and then sighs.

“Well, that’s great,” Rebecca repeats but then her face drops again. “It must be nice to have at least one parent to build a relationship with,” she says, quietly. “Not everyone has that.”

Greg looks at her, quizzically. “So, are you and your mom totally done, then or...?”

Paula interrupts to tell him that they are not. “She’s just currently ignoring Naomi” she informs Greg.

“Actually, it’s a little more nuanced” Rebecca pouts. “I’m having things on my terms. I don’t want to cut her out completely, like that my loser dad, but I’ve got to ‘manage’ it,” she mimes quote marks around the word “manage”.

Paula starts to protest that her version of “managing” is ignoring her, and the fact she hasn’t seen her since last year, but is interrupted by Rebecca’s phone ringing.

Rebecca picks it up and puts it back down again, quickly. “Speak of the devil…”

“See,” says Paula, rolling her eyes at Greg. He looks uncomfortable and sips his soda, while Rebecca listens to her answerphone message.

“Yep, yep” she says holding up a finger to Paula. “Oh, the usual… test results, revisiting that goldmine of maternal guilt.” She tuts. “Classic Naomi.” She snaps the phone down on the table and Paula and Greg both stare back at her.

“What??”

“Erm,” Greg begins, carefully. “If your mom is actually sick, don’t you think now would be a good time to reconnect?”

Rebecca’s face sets in a frown at this and Paula downs the last of her wine. “On that note,” she says, picking up her bag. “Cookie, I will see you on Tuesday for _Succession_. I’m going to leave because agreeing with _you_ so much is wigging me out,” she nods towards Greg.

“Don’t forget to pick up Tommy” he calls out wryly as she leaves.

Rebecca turns back to face Greg and grits her teeth. “Look, I know you’re recently bereaved and you have Shauna back in your life, but that doesn’t make you an expert on all parents,” she says, defensively.

He holds her gaze and then shrugs. “That’s fair. It's just, I know your mom can be _terrible_ , but she’s the only one you’ve got. You don’t want it to be too late. Trust me.” He reaches out to gently touch her hand.

“You don’t get to play the Marco card,” Rebecca still pouts, looking down and removing her hand. She can feel his hazel eyes scrutinizing her face and feels a blush creep up from her neck to her face.

“Rebecca, I…” he says in a soft voice but she cuts him off.

“What are you doing for Thanksgiving?” she asks, her voice brighter, her mind looping back to dog shows and tacos.

“Well, I’ll mostly be working... but also Shauna just invited me over for a lavish lunch” Greg says.

“Oh, cool, cool,” she answers, aiming for a full smile. It appears her comrade in all things broken [this go around, family] is leaving her behind yet again.

 

**[LATER THAT EVENING]**

 

 **Rebecca Bunch:** _Hey Heath. ‘Sup? What are you guys up to for Thanksgiving?? xxx_

 **Heather Davis:** _Hey girl. We are just having a chill hang at the beach at el Segundo and then H’s mom is coming over to record a festive podcast. You wanna join? x_

 **R.B:** N _o, it’s cool. I’ll be in the Cove. Just wondered if you were around. Enjoy! Xxx_

 

 **Rebecca Bunch:** H _ey V! How are the wedding plans going? Are you hitting the WC for Turkey day? 🦃 Xxx_

 **Valencia Perez:** _OMG! So much to discuss! Let’s skype soon! No, we are actually in Mexico for TD, having a little pamper sesh before the Big Day planning really kicks in. XOXO_

 

Rebecca considers messaging Darryl but then his story update pops up on her phone. It’s five new photos of him, Madison, Hebby, April and her daughter with the #family.

“Not going to compete with that,” she thinks and flops down onto her bed in defeat.

 

**[SERRANO’S]**

_A few days later, Rebecca pulls Paula and Heather into Serrano’s. It’s lunchtime and she smiles sweetly at Greg when he hands them menus._

“So... why are we here again?” mutters Paula.

“I told you, I had a craving for Italian. And, also, we should be supporting Greg as a new local business owner” Rebecca says, slyly trying to adjust her bra straps so her boobs are a little more on show.

Paula replies with a “Hmm” and Heather watches Rebecca pulls some books of out of her bag, saying "oh okay" when she reads what they are.

“A book on Princeton and applying to colleges!? You’re trying to infiltrate Greg’s mom!”

Rebecca laughs. “What? No. I’m just being supportive. It’s to help his sister, nothing to do with Shauna,” she says, before quickly shushing Heather when Greg comes within earshot.

“Anyway,” she beams while Greg takes out his order pad.” I wanted to tell you all my good news.” She wafts a hand to include Greg in the “all” and he raises an eyebrow.

“So, my piano teacher has invited me to perform in a small show – a recital, if you will.”

Paula claps and hugs her and Heather looks impressed and offers a high five. Greg congratulates her before pointing back to the menu. “So, food…?” he grins.

Paula and Heather pepper her with questions and Rebecca responds, but she’s really watching Greg stride around his bustling restaurant. After a while, the lunch rush dies down and he’s back behind the bar, writing stock lists. She goes up to join him and nervously offers him the books.

“Er, great, thanks,” he says with a bemused smile. “I’m sure Lily will appreciate them.”

“Yeah, and your mom” Rebecca adds. It’s really helpful for the parent to know as much as possible about the process too…” she nods.

Greg gives her a quick look, and then starts polishing some glasses, and so she leans towards him.

“So, yeah I’m free to help whenever…”

This makes Greg chuckle. “Really, I thought you were pretty busy running your pretzel stand and writing your music and having piano lessons. Last week you told me you’d nearly perfected sleeping standing up.”

“Yes, well…” Rebecca pulls a face in return. “True, but I can still help, I’m great at applications.... Plus, also, you missed a bit” she points mockingly to the glass in his hand.

* * *

 

Over at their table, Heather shakes her head. “Greg does not need to be polishing glasses right now, he has minions to do that,” she tells Paula. “This is just like Greg and Rebecca circa 2016. My sense of deja-vu is very high right now." Paula scoffs in reply and eats some olives.

“Nah, Rebecca is too busy,” she says, confidently. “Plus, Greg is dating someone from Tinder. Tommy told me.”

 

* * *

 

Back at the bar Rebecca is asking Greg about Thanksgiving. “Everyone is busy being coupled up,” she sighs. “There’s nothing like the holidays to remind you how crap your family is” she flutters her eyelashes.

Greg notices Rebecca giving him puppy eyes, huge like saucers, and he groans inwardly. “So, err, you heading East then?” he asks.

There’s a pause before Rebecca mumbles “maybe” and then quietly, “I was hoping to stay here.” and then gives him a look that goes directly to his heart.

Greg chews on his lip a little, “I guess I could ask…” he begins, but is interrupted by Paula calling Rebecca back to their table for food.

While she tucks into her cannelloni, Tommy approaches Greg. “Thought you’d be taking Cora to Thanksgiving” he says, making a kissy face and grabbing the tea towel from Greg. Greg tries to shush him and replies in an undertone, which is nevertheless quite audible.

“A - stop listening to my private conversations, and B – no, I’m not taking someone I’ve had a few dates with to meet my mother.” He doesn’t look over at Rebecca, who is eating her cannelloni in silence, and heads back into the kitchen.

 

**[HOMEBASE]**

_A week or so later, and Rebecca manages to grab five minutes from her busy schedule of practicing and pretzels to meet up with Paula, before she heads off on vacation._

“Okay, so are you sure you can fit in some extra pro-bono stuff?” Paula asks Rebecca, looking concerned. She’s has her laptop out and is furiously scrolling through emails on her phone at the same time. “There is so much to do, Tommy’s passport hasn’t even arrived yet…”

“Yes, next Thursday AM, right?” Rebecca taps her temple.

Paula grins a thank you. “You know, great for Nathaniel for following his dreams and everything but he did kinda screw up my prison work timetable. He got that contact as cover to help, but that guy _sucks,_ ” she says, emphatically. “A total white bread Ivy League snob who can’t even talk to any of our clients, let alone emphasize… I mean, come on.”

Rebecca look conflicted but then she takes Paula’s hand. “As frustrating as that must be, I do have some related news,” she says in her announcement voice. Paula looks at her curiously, and Heather walks across the bar to listen.

“So, I’ve actually solved ma little Turkey Day crisis” she tells them, grinning excitedly. “I’m thinking of going to Guatemala.”

“Really?” Paula blinks. Rebecca nods in reply, and looks pleased with herself, but then stops as she clocks Paula rolling her eyes.

“That sounds expensive. Aren’t you kinda broke?” asks Heather, thinking back to the Rebetzels' books.

“Well… I wouldn’t exactly need to pay... ” Rebecca starts.

“She means Nathaniel will pay for it,” Paula interrupts. “Honey, what are you doing?” she asks, as Rebecca looks put out and says she thought Paula liked Nathaniel now. Heather watches on.

“I do, despite the fact he left me in the pro-bono lurch to go and White Saviour all over central America.” She sighs. “I just don’t think this will help anything. You said no to him back in February, and potentially broke his heart, and now you’ll let him pay thousands of dollars [Rebecca squints at this] to fly you over there because you’re at a loose end.” Rebecca folds her arms and tries to interrupt but Paula is agitated and holds up a hand.

“Yeah, that’s kind of tacky and unfair” Heather butts in.

“Cookie, he’s just a fantasy,” Paula continues. “You haven’t mentioned him in months but he’s always waiting in the wings to swoop in with his money or private jet, and you’ll feel like crap when you return and still have bills to pay and still have your mother to talk to and just... _reality_ to get on with.”

She finishes with a flourish and Rebecca looks shocked, her mouth a little “o” of surprise. She blinks aways the memory of Nathaniel in a literal Prince costume. 

“Besides, doesn’t he have a 'GF' now”? Heather asks, and Rebecca looks even more surprised. Heather admits, “Yeah I follow him on Insta for the cute monkey pics. He's been looking pretty cosy with a Spanish chick.”

Rebecca immediately picks up her phone. She’d hidden both Nathaniel and Josh after Valentines Day to “make things easier”,  as she’d told herself. Needless to say, Greg isn’t on Instagram, but she does now follow @SerranosWC. She’s surprised to find several selfies of Nathaniel posing intimately with an attractive tanned woman in a floppy sunhat; the latest posted two days ago. Her stomach sinks and she looks back at a text from him this morning with a suggestive sequoia and eggplant emoji.

Paula reads her face. “Not going to be his Tonya again are you?” she asks with a steely tone to her voice. At this, Heather disappears to the stockroom with a “yikes” and Rebecca puts down her phone, defeated. She bits her lip and turns to face Paula, shaking her head. This face, of course, makes Paula soften and pull Rebecca into a hug.

“God, I said I wouldn’t interfere in your love life again. You’re just doing so well and I don’t want you to go backwards and, god, I’m so tired working all the time and planning for this trip, and it’s no excuse, and I’m sorry.”

Rebecca apologizes too. “No, I always want your advice. This is different – it’s not like our old Josh Chan shenanigans” she says with a bittersweet laugh.

After Paula leaves, Rebecca is left alone with her notebook, and thinking back to when she first moved to California and befriended Paula, she scribbles a few notes.

 _Josh just happened to be here._ She smiles to herself and is suddenly hit by a powerful wave of nostalgia.

* * *

 

On her way back to Rebetzels she decides to follow that nostalgia, and finds herself arriving at the Boba stand. The guy at the counter recognizes her and chastises her for not coming by enough.

“Yeah, it’s been a while,” she admits with a laugh of awknowledgement. 

The wind is fresh and she huddles into her fluffy sweater, as she waits for her order. She turns to face the bench she’d schemed at with Paula so many times back when they were hoping to bump into Josh. As she turns, the sun appears from behind a cloud bathing the park in a golden light, illuminating the couple in front of her in a heavenly glow.

“What the…?” she gasps with a laugh.

It’s Josh Chan. Josh Chan, and he has his arm around a curly dark-haired woman she knows to be his new girlfriend. He’s smiling and whispering into her ear, as he picks a leaf out of her hair, and then gives her a slow kiss on the lips. Josh Chan and he’s having a romantic moment with a woman who isn’t her, in front of her, in front of their Boba stand. She exhales.

He spots Rebecca and comes over, guiding his girlfriend across too. “Hey Bex,” he starts, looking a little apprehensive, yet also proud.

“This is Rosa”.

She holds out her hand. “Pleased to meet you,” she says, and she really means it.

“Hi” Rosa repeats, politely. “Do you know Josh through magic too?” and Rebecca has to stop herself from laughing.

“No,” she replies, looking at Josh. “We met a long time ago.”

They exchange a few more pleasantries, and Josh invites Rebecca to a magic show, and Rebecca invites him to her piano recital, and then they part ways.

 

* * *

 

Later, she leaves the park, content and full of Boba, and hums to herself as she turns left onto South Cameron. She has plenty of time before she needs to be back at Rebetzels, and so she walks slowly, trying to perfect a melody for one of her new songs in her head as she goes. Across the street, a familiar dark grey plaid shirt catches her eye.

Greg. He’s walking with a dark-haired woman with long dark hair and green eyes, and jeans that are a little too tight for daytime, thinks Rebecca. The woman loops her arm through Greg’s and Rebecca ducks into the window of a nearby shop, not wanting to be seen.

They’ve also stopped and are examining a flyer that the woman has in her hand. Greg makes a comment, and she smiles and replies, which causes him to laugh hard in response. Not just a smile, or a smirk or a grin, but a laugh. A proper laugh.

Rebecca groans. In that moment, she _knows_. She knows that she irrationally hates that woman with the straight dark hair. The woman who currently has Greg’s hand on the small of her back and is happily mirroring his smile.

Rebecca tries to swallow down the rising bile, but she also knows something else. It’s the opposite feeling of the darkness she feels toward the woman [the woman who, rationally, she knows, should be her ally and sister in this world] and it’s directed towards Greg. But she doesn’t know what to do with it. There’s no where for it to go and she’s definitely not ready to say it out loud. So, she waits until they’ve disappeared up the street and turns and heads for Rebetzels, her Boba buzz rapidly fading.

She gets out her phone and presses dial. “Mom” she says. “What are you doing for Thanksgiving?”

 

**[HOMEBASE]**

_It’s the Sunday before Thanksgiving and Rebecca is sat at the bar eating chili fries and talking to Heather. Greg is nearby with Hector, and Rebecca is trying her darndest to remember how to act normal in front of him._

Greg leans towards her and asks her an innocent question about one of the pieces for her piano recital. She gives him a clipped, short answer and sits upright on the edge of her stool, her palms placed flat on the bar in front of her. Curious, he gives her a look with his head on one side and tries again.

“So, are your Thanksgiving plans fixed then?” he asks.

“Yes, I’m going to New York” she says not looking him and fiddling with her skirt.

He smiles. “Awesome, so you’re going to go and get the Naomi visit over with?”

“Yes” she says, simply.

“What’s going on with you? You’re being as inscrutable as the shrink in _Mindhunter_ ” He laughs at his own joke and leans over and takes a fry from her plate.

As he leans over, she catches his eye and can’t help but inhale in his familiar scent. She can smell his soap, and a faint hint of tomatoes and garlic from Serranos, but mostly its just the musky smell that is uniquely him and sets her pulse racing.

His arm brushes hers and suddenly it’s almost four years ago and they are back in the stockroom of this very bar, half-naked and all over each other. _She closes her eyes and finds herself pushed back against one of the shelves with her legs hitched up around his waist, his mouth on her neck and his hands... well, all over her_.

She blinks and the bar looms back into focus and Greg is still staring at her with a half-smirk on his lips.

“Aaah,” she manages. “Yes, you were, in fact, correct about my mom.”  She shoves a handful of fries into her mouth as a distraction.

Greg shrugs and says that there’s no need for him to be her moral guide these days, but he still evidently has an eyebrow raised at her behaviour.

He runs his finger around the rim of his soda glass, absentmindedly, and then she’s suddenly transported back to a year ago. _Flat on her back on Darryl’s carpet, with Greg on top of her, and between her legs, and she’s kissing him hard and his hands are in her hair and then her neck and then moving down under her bra straps and tracing a circle under the cups of her bra, finding her…_

Heather coughs loudly, and Rebecca is back in the present.

She blushes and Greg is still staring at her, but he’s starting to get it. His eyes meet hers and there’s a heavy silence where he bites his lip, which lasts until Rebecca turns away. “What’s going on?” Heather mouths at her.

“Um, I gotta go,” Greg yelps, hastily jumping up from his seat. “Yeah, there is stuff… stuff to do at the work. My work… err, my restaurant.” He practically runs out of the bar, throwing a bye over his shoulder.

Heather stares at Rebecca, and Rebecca’s head flops to the bar. “Uuuggh, I need to get laid” she groans from behind her hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and for the nice comments. 
> 
> In the next chapter... a park scene and The Getty


	6. Win/Lose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's almost 2020 and relationships in West Covina continue to adjust and evolve.
> 
> Rebecca gets on stage but begins to question her progress. Heather and Hector throw a hot tub warming party and Rebecca and Greg can't stay apart. Paula and Rebecca share secrets.

**[A SMALL CONCERT VENUE IN WEST COVINA: THE BATHROOM]**

_Rebecca grips on to the sink in front of her with both hands and stares determinedly at her own reflection. Her curls are piled up on top of her head and she's wearing a blue dress floral dress which makes her eyes sparkle, or so Paula tells her. Paula stands just behind her, adjusting her hair. She jushes one last curl and then moves to the side and firmly takes Rebecca’s hand ._

“You ready, Cookie?” she asks Rebecca, giving her a full smile.

Rebecca sits on stage, her heart pounding. Before she begins, she looks out into the crowd and finds the familiar faces of Paula, Heather and Hector, and Darryl beaming back at her. She had wanted to keep this performance low key. It’s just a practice for her really, but now she’s on stage, she’s glad that they are here for her.

She’d also text Greg three days ago. It was a casual text. A casual text inviting him to her casual show. Not even her show, she reminds herself – just a show she’d have a tiny part in. _Light and Polite_.

They haven’t seen each other since before Thanksgiving and her slightly erotic meltdown in Home Base, when he'd run out on her. He’d replied [casually] to her message saying he might have something on, but he’d try and make it.

Looking out now, however, she can’t find his hazel eyes in the crowd and she feels the disappointment rise in her chest. It’s okay; she makes herself swallow down the feeling and smile instead, and she begins to play.

And it goes well. She stumbles occasionally, and in one piece loses her way, but is able to keep going and get through it. She’s not playing any of her own songs but still feels that tingle of accomplishment at performing on stage. After the show her friends take her to Home Base to celebrate, and Heather hooks everyone up with free drinks.

“Rebecca, honey, you were so great,” gushes Darryl, handing her a glass of wine.

“Thanks Darryl,” she replies, starting to feel a little embarrassed.

Paula squeezes her arm. “You must be so proud of yourself,” she adds."You did it".

“I mean, I was okay,” Rebecca answers. She frowns a little and spins her wine glass. “But that last guy who played was amazing. I’m never going to be as good as him.”

She’s referring to one of her teacher’s labelled _Star Pupils_. A guy of about eighteen who can effortlessly play Lizt or Rachmaninoff, but had charmed the audience that night with his take on several modern songs.

“Hm, his John Legend was good,” Heather agrees. “But his Billy Joel was pretty lame.”

“Hey now, you can’t beat a bit of Billy Joel,” an amused voice behind her says, and Rebecca turns to find Greg raising an eyebrow. “Piano Man is my jam” he adds.

“Hey,” she says, trying to control her own smile, but then Darryl is demanding her attention and telling her that she has more “stage presence” than the prodigy eighteen-year old, and she can barely hear Greg’s apology for missing her show.

It takes a good ten minutes to extract herself from Darryl and head over to the bar to where Hector and Greg are chatting. Hector is in the middle of congratulating Greg for something she can't quite hear, and giving him a half-bro hug.

“What’s going on?” she asks, brightly, inserting herself between them.

Greg hesistantly shows her a small plaque with “Best Newcomer 2019” engraved on it. “I won this tonight,” he says.

“Wow,” she grins, surprised. “So, that’s why you weren’t there earlier – why didn’t you tell me?”

He shrugs with an uneasy smile and tells her it’s no big deal. She notices he's wearing a smarter than usual blazer jacket.

There’s a brief pause which Hector decides to fill by downing his beer and announcing he’s going... “over there.” He points vaguely in the direction of Heather. “Congrats on your show Rebecca, you were awesome” he says to her, patting her arm as he leaves.

Rebecca smiles at him, and her grin stays rictus-like on her face after he’s gone.

Greg notices that the smile isn't quite meeting her eyes. “So…?” he asks, with his head on one side. “How did you feel about it, y'know, really?”

Her face drops. “It was fine,” she admits. “It was good practice. I just kinda feel the same as I did after that crappy Elliot Ellison musical.”

“Ah?”

“Just, like, how do I identify with Chopin or Joplin, or even Billy Joel, [Greg snorts at this inclusion] or whoever?” she continues. “And I know I’m not good enough to really do them justice in my playing”

“I get it.” Greg says. “Just contain all this,” he goes on, and wafts his hand to indicate ‘all this.’ “You should just concentrate on your writing. You like doing that right? ”

“Yeah, I do, I love it...” she replies, slowly, but then she spots the dark-haired woman she’d seen Greg with on South Cameron before Thanksgiving enter the bar, and she stutters. She can’t face being introduced to this woman, not yet, and so she makes a quick excuse and scuttles back to Paula and Heather.

Paula takes one look at Rebecca’s face, clocks the brunette, and seamlessly reintegrates her back into the conversation before anyone can notice anything is up. She then changes the subject to Valencia’s upcoming wedding, which distracts everyone, including Rebecca, enough that she eventually stops repeating “don’t come over, don’t come over, don't come over” in her head.

 Thank god for Mama Cookie. 

* * *

 

Almost two hours pass, and Rebecca begins to feel warm and fuzzy from her two glasses of wine. She heads to the bar to get herself some water and is surprised to find Greg still present, but his date now nowhere in sight. Emboldened by this, and admittedly also by the fuzzy wine feeling, she approaches him and pokes him in the arm.

“So, back to Billy Joel….” she begins, and Greg looks simultaneously confused and amused.

“Huh?”

“Yep, yep…I can see it now”

“Am I going to regret mentioning this?” he  groans.

“No, no, I get it” she says, giving him a thoughtful look and stroking her chin. “Your whole ‘last call’ and general stuck-behind-the-bar vibe circa 2016 was very him.”

Greg laughs, shaking his head, and helps pull her up onto the bar stool next to him. “So, anyway, Rebetzel – enough about Mr Joel. You never told me how your Thanksgiving went?”

“Well, Gregory…” she begins, trying to ignore the way him grabbing her arm has caused the hairs on the back of her neck to jump to attention. “It was okay” she admits, turning more serious. “Naomi was…well, herself. We successfully managed a whole day together, although her new adjective for me is ‘bohemian’ and I don’t think she means it as a compliment.”

_However, she doesn’t actually tell Greg the full story of her Thanksgiving. She managed to spend a whole day and night with her mom before the inevitable Audra Levine comparisons proved too much, and she’d gone instead to Valencia and Beth’s apartment, with the spare key Valencia had left her. She’d tried writing, but, unable to overcome her restlessness, had decided to hit some nearby bars for a change of scene. In one, she’d run into a friend of an associate from Manhattan and he’d remembered her with a warm “Hey, Rebecca Bunch – you look really different.” He’d bought her a drink and continued with “Didn’t you give it all up and move to the beach?” and she’d been surprised to hear herself honestly tell him that she’s actually a writer and musician now. “Or trying to be.”_

_She was surprised further when he’d looked impressed, even envious, and then she’d remembered that she’d always found him attractive. The way his dark curls hung over his forehead and his faint hint of stubble. It was inevitable from then on that they would go home together, and she was glad to scratch one itch that had been getting persistently louder over the past few weeks._

_After he’d left the next morning, she’d given herself a little self-assessment to check her feels and was relieved to find that she felt fine. As she reports to Paula later, the sex was fun, and she feels satisfied in that respect, but also had felt no need to pursue the guy any further, and, more importantly, had no feelings of self-hatred or loathing about it._

_“The perfect one-night stand” gasps Paula, clasping her hands together._

_Rebecca had admitted it was, but doesn’t mention that it had left her feeling pretty empty. Like she was waiting for something else. Or someone else._

She doesn’t tell Greg this either, as he smiles and asks her about Naomi’s health. Rebecca ignores the Mr Darcy comparisons that spring immediately to mind, and says her mom is better now they’ve switched her medication around.

“Actually, we did get almost get along for a while, which was new,” she admits. “I mean, she still thinks Rebetzel's is the worst move in the world, but she was surprisingly in to my writing” She pauses. “She even came up with a few funny bits.”

Greg leans back in his chair and tips his head at her. “You guys must share some of the same humour, right?”

“I guess... guessing it didn’t come from Silas.”  Even having to mention his name makes her pout. 

He grins at her. “This is the stuff you love isn’t it? Just keep on doing the storytelling… not getting bogged down in perfect recitals, or whatever.”

“I know…” she smiles back at him, suddenly feeling warm inside, and now she knows it's down to more than just the wines she’s consumed. Greg is spinning his plaque on the bar as she asks, “Hey, what are you up to now? Do you want to go and get some food or hang out, or..?”

An elated smile crosses his face for the briefest of moments, before it clouds over and he looks away from her, sadly.

“Um, I would but I can’t….” He pauses and frowns. “You know, you remember I said I couldn’t wait for you, Rebecca.” His eyes flick back to hers.

“….Yup, I know” she says in a very small voice.

“I’m sorry,” he replies, and he does look truly sorry.

She swallows and nods, unable to speak as he briefly touches her hand and says “friends?” before getting up and leaving.

She badly wants to be his friend, she had been his friend, but somehow he knew that her intentions were, once again, outwith the friend zone.

After he’s gone, she realizes he’s left behind some papers on the bar and she picks up a copy of the _Daily Covina_ to find a map and guide to The Getty.

“What?” she mouths, puzzled.

 

**[REBECCA'S APARTMENT]**

_The next day Rebecca sits again at her piano stool scribbling some notes, while AJ, back from school for the holidays, lounges on the nearby sofa. Paula is also there, half-listening, but at the same time tapping away on her work laptop._

Rebecca grunts in concentration and screws up her nose.

“Hey Bex, you look really determined today. What’s going on?” calls AJ, intrigued.

“Am just really on it today – got the writing bug, you know,” she replies, not looking up from her book. She plays a few cascading piano notes and Paula nods along, enthusiastically.

“I like this one, Cookie. It’s catchy!”

AJ agrees. “This is the one about you catching the feels, right?” He laughs. “I feel it’s very on-brand for you. Or the you of pre-last February, I mean.” He exchanges a meaningful look with Paula and Rebecca ignores him and then clears her throat.

“Actually, guys, I’ve made a decision,” she announces. “I’m going to ask my music teacher about doing another show.” She grins. “But this time I’m doing my own songs.”

“Wow,” says Paula, looking a little shocked. “When are you going to do it?”

“Now, as in over the holidays,” answers Rebecca. “I just want to get on with it now, you know.” She pauses. “I was talking to someone yesterday, it was Greg, actually, in Home Base, and it made me realize that I should start doing this for real.”

AJ sits up and looks at her, carefully. “That’s really soon,” he says, and looks for a moment as though he’s going to say something else, but then changes his mind. “But heck, you should go for it, and I’ll still be in town so I can come."

Paula smiles, but advises Rebecca to talk to her teacher. “It’s kind of short notice and you’ll need to find a venue… wow, Cookie. Things are getting really real and exciting.”

“I know,” Rebecca replies, smiling, and turns back to her keys.

 

**[HOME BASE]**

_A couple of days later Rebecca enters Home Base again-- this time looking for Heather who is going to help her look over the Rebetzel’s books. She spots Greg and Josh at the bar and so indicates for Heather to join her at a table at the far side of the room._

Heather heads over to join her, and after sitting down realizes Rebecca has turned away from the bar. “Oh,” she says, looking at Greg and Josh and then back at Rebecca.

“Greg spends a lot of time in this bar for a recovering alcoholic, doesn’t he?” she notes, sardonically.

Rebecca snorts and shrugs. “I just think it’s better we have a bit of space.” She keeps her eyes on Heather and flips open her laptop. “Things were a bit weird between us the other night and I know he’s dating someone now…”

Heather raises an eyebrow. “When are things ever un-weird between you two? ”

“Not true. I’ve been single for almost a year now, actually,” Rebecca says with a shake of her curls, giving a small proud smile.

“Sure,” replies Heather and slides over to look at the laptop screen.

* * *

 

Time passes, with much concentration spent on Rebetzel's incomings and outgoings. Heather is just beginning to smile over a decrease in the red, when Rebecca spots Josh heading to the bathroom and starts digging around in her purse.

“Be right back,” she interrupts Heather and trots towards Greg, clutching a piece of paper.

“Hey,” she says, and, before he has time to reply, shoves the leaflet from The Getty towards him. “You left this in here the other night.”

“Right,” he says examining it. “Thanks.”

She studies his face and notices it looks a little lined and shadowed and that his eyes look bloodshot. Deciding right then not to return immediately back to Heather, she instead smiles at him. 

“So, you’ve been there recently…?”

“To the Getty? Yup.” He nods. “I went there on a date, actually,” he squints at Rebecca.

“Cool,” she squeaks, her heart thumping. “How was it?”

“It was…” He breaks off and pauses, considering his answer for a moment, then sighs. “It was not how I imagined it. Or, let’s say, it didn’t quite go how I planned...”

Rebecca can’t help but give a small laugh. “Yeah, I think I know that feeling.” She tries her hardest to repress a smile and look concerned, but Greg himself chuckles and then yawns.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “Work has been crazy - the restaurant is booked out for the holidays.”

Rebecca sympathizes for a moment [yet, again trying not to compare how well his business is doing in comparison to hers] and then she tells him about the plan to do her own show.

“Wow,” he says. “That’s brave.”

“Yeah,” she says. “Well, I should get back to Heather.”  They look at each other, neither wanting to break eye-contact until Rebecca says, “like over there,” awkwardly, and shuffles back to Heather with a little wave.

Heather says nothing when she returns, and they go back to examining the Rebetzel’s books. After a while, she says “Oh by the way – Hector and I are having a party for our new hot tub on Sunday afternoon. Are you coming?”

“For your hot tub?” Rebecca asks. “In El Segundo? Like, I'll have to drive all the way to El Segundo?”

“Hot tub,” Heather reminds her in a dramatic whisper and Rebecca laughs.

“Sure, I’ll be there.”

 

**[HEATHER AND HECTOR’S EL SEGUNDO CONDO]**

_All the usual faces, and some of Heather and Hector’s new El Segundo friends, are gathered outside in the yard. Paula and Rebecca are not yet present. Heather pours out drinks, while Hector rubs glaze on some steaks under Greg's watchful eye._

The laid-back atmosphere of gentle chatter is suddenly broken by the arrival of Rebecca, as she strides purposefully into the yard, followed hastily by Paula who looks flustered.

“Heather,” Rebecca exclaims loudly, and gives her a frantic hug before slamming down some salad-filled Tupperwares on a nearby table.

“Err, hi, sorry we’re late,” Paula says apologetically to Heather, but really to the whole group as they now have everyone’s attention. “Got stuck in traffic.”

“Naturally,” says Greg with a grin, and Rebecca turns around to face him with a sharp glare. He’s surprised, but holds his hands up in front of him in a jokey defense until her face softens.

"C'mon, I couldn't miss the opportunity for a SoCal traffic joke. Solid gold." he smirks.

“Hmm, hi” she says, before marching off to talk to Darryl and April.

Greg feels puzzled. He exchanges a look with Paula who grimaces at him with a shake of her head.

 

* * *

 

Rebecca’s mood appears to mellow as the party progresses, but there’s still a dark glint to her eye, which Heather, Paula, and Greg all notice. Heather is too busy hosting to ask Paula what’s up, and Greg, although he tries, can’t seem to get near Paula or Rebecca. He realizes with a pang of annoyance that he is constantly flanked by Hector or Whi-Jo.

At one point he manages to duck both of them, but is then immediately ambushed by Darryl, who wants to know if he has any availability for babysitting duties.

 _C'mon, dude,_ he thinks. Hebby is cute, and of course, part Rebecca, but still... .

Eventually, he gets frustrated with all his apparent bodyguards, and announces he’s going to hit the hot tub.

“Huh, didn’t think you were a tub man,” replies Whi-Jo in surprise, as Hector bounces after Greg.

They have a few moments of awkward chit chat with the other people in the tub, until Rebecca climbs into the tub and sits down next to Hector.

“Oh, hii Rebecca,” Hector says, trying to cover his discomfort at sitting between Greg and Rebecca. “So, Heather mentioned you’re going to do another show soon?” he stumbles.

“Nope,” she replies, with a touch of bitterness, which Greg hears and immediately sits up straighter.

“How come?” he asks, leaning over Hector.

“Yep, my piano teacher thinks I’m shit, basically” she answers, before giving a sharp little laugh.

Hector looks even more uncomfortable and decides to make a bolt for it.

“Ice, we need more ice. I've got to get more ice” he tells them, quickly jumping out of the hot tub.

Rebecca sighs, closing her eyes and leaning back into the bubbles. “This feels nice,” she murmurs, and Greg sits painfully still, trying to ignore the fact she is now right next to him in swimwear. He definitely does not look over to check her out. He definitely wouldn't be able to tell you that she's wearing a black halter neck one-piece with splashes of red, and how the edges of the curls that have escaped out of the pile on her head glisten with beads of water. He wrestles with the impulse to reach out and brush off one of the beads with his thumb.

“Erm, anyway…I’m sure your teacher doesn’t think you’re terrible” he says after a moment. Then he adds, gently, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Nope,” she answers, with her eyes still closed.

“Okay then.” Greg lets himself sink into the bubbles. “You know, this is actually quite nice,” he admits. “I always thought hot tubs were kind of tacky [he grimaces] but I could get used to this.”

Feeling him loosen up, Rebecca opens her eyes a little and smiles. “Yeah, it’ll really help with those aches and pains from life in the restaurant biz.”

He has his own eyes closed now and so she takes the opportunity to peak over at him. She’s seen him more naked than this before, obviously [multiple times], but sitting here together in the bubbling water feels strangely intimate. She’s letting herself trace the outline of his jaw and shoulders with her eyes, and imagining leaning over and taking his face and kissing him. He'd pull away, of course, but she knows he'd respond right before he pulled away, he always had. And right now, that first response of pure lust is all she's thinking about... until Paula’s voice suddenly breaks the spell.

“Rebecca! Hey, Rebecca!”

They both look up and Rebecca reluctantly starts moving to exit the tub.

“Your phone won’t stop ringing” Paula explains, waving it at her. “Honey, I think it’s your teacher…you should take this.”

Rebecca sighs and agrees, wrapping herself in a towel, before stomping away with her phone.

 

**[A BENCH OVERLOOKING THE BEACH IN EL SEGUNDO]**

_Rebecca sits moodily huddled on the bench, looking out at the ocean. The sun is beginning to set. Greg approaches from her left and sits down next to her, their knees not quite touching._

“Hi,” he starts, quietly.

“How did you know I was here?” she asks, not looking at him, but knowing he is back in his jeans and dark green shirt. She can picture his rolled up sleeves, the width of his chest and his hands resting evenly on his knees, without even having to look over. It's easy for her mind to conjure up his image, as she's done it so often over the past few weeks. 

“Paula told me you’d gone for a walk. I just kinda kept walking until I got to the beach. It made sense and then... here you were.”

She says “Oh,” and he leans over and places a copy of a newspaper on her knee. Picking it up, she reads “ _Recently re-opened local Italian is a shadow of it’s former glory_ ” as a headline on the open page.

“What?” she says, now looking over at him. “Everyone knows this isn’t true. You’re busier than ever.”

“Maybe,” he admits. “Rebecca, when I first saw that review, though, I could think about nothing else for two weeks. Come on, I’m still carrying it around with me.” He scoffs at himself, distainfully. 

She gives a little sniff of disbelief in return .

“It’s true,” he says. “I was even reading the web version and then scrolling down to check user comments… but that’s when I realized I had to let it go.”

“Ha,” she replies, looking back out at the ocean. “I see what you’re doing.” She taps the newspaper. “This is your version of my music teacher telling me I should just give up.”

Greg squints at this. “I’m still not convinced that’s exactly what they said...but yes, maybe I'm trying to draw some kind of parallel, you caught me. It's just...disappointment does happen to everyone."

But Rebecca ignores him and continues. “Difference is, you’re doing incredibly well. Your restaurant is practically always booked up, you go to the gym regularly, you have this cool new mom relationship, and you’re dating, um, that woman…the beautiful woman.” She tails off, awkwardly.

He looks at her. “Funny thing is, I’m not actually dating her, that woman. I’m not dating anyone.” Rebecca’s eyes flick back to him and a soft noise escapes her lips.

“Yeah,” he continues. “Turns out, being a recovering alcoholic, plus grieving for a recently deceased parent, not to mention working a lot of unsociable hours, does not add up to make you the most datable person" 

He exhales. "It was 'too much', apparently.”

“That sucks, she sucks” says Rebecca, quietly, and then lets the ramifications of what he’s told her hang in the air for a while.

"I don't think it's too much" she says eventually, in a quiet voice.

“It is what it is,” he says, looking back at her.

Rebecca sighs again. There’s a gap between them on the bench, which she’s aching to close but can’t quite figure out how to do it. His face in Serrano's and Home Base telling her he "wasn't going to wait" runs through her head and she loses her nerve. It's such a barrier to her feelings, but one she understands is of her own making. It's going to take a while to figure out how to break it down again. 

She can feel his warm gaze on her and turns around to face him. They stare at each for a few moments, while Rebecca shuffles her feet, and finally says, “I guess we should get back to the party then.”

**[PAULA’S KITCHEN]**

_The next evening, Rebecca sits with Scott at Paula’s table, sharing a pie. She looks up in anticipation when Paula arrives through the door, and is puzzled to see her and Tommy enter carrying catering-type food trays._

“What’s this?” she asks, gesturing at the trays in confusion. She peers into them, as Paula rearranges the fridge and begins sliding them in, eyeing some bruschetta-looking canapes and lasagna layers.

“Oh, just some catering for a school event of Tommy’s,” Paula says, breezily. She sticks her head into the fridge. “Greg did us a deal... ”

“Greg?" asks Rebecca, looking startled at hearing his name coming so casually out of Paula's mouth. She puts her hand behind her ear. “Err, Greg? Gregory? Greg Serrano?”

Paula gives her a quick scan. “Yup, the very same. He’s been helping me out for a while, actually. We have a thang.”

“A _thang..._?!"

Scott hears the tone in Rebecca’s voice and ushers Tommy out of the room, much to Tommy's obvious and visible annoyance.

“Yeah, we’ve had a bit of an arrangement.” Paula tells Rebecca, before leading her back to the table and handing her more pie. “How else do you think I got Tommy a job at Serrano's so easily?” she asks in an undertone.

“Fair,” says Rebecca, spooning pie into her mouth. “But since when? I thought you hated Greg?”

Paula shrugs. “Eh, I guess I don’t anymore.” She takes a bite of the pie herself, but Rebecca keeps staring at her until she puts down the fork with a sigh.

“Oh, okay then honey – we’re doing this” she begins, and clears her throat. “ It started back in February when he brought me salmon for Tommy...”

“ _What_?” Rebecca looks baffled.

“Yeah, he overheard me panicking about needing some food for a school event” Paula continues. “He was trying to get me onside.”

“Huh?”

“Cookie, he was trying to get me onside with the whole Valentine’s day thing because he knows how much our friendship means to you,” she explains.

“Oh,” says Rebecca, softly, and blushes. “That’s kind of sweet, actually.”

“Well, yes” Paula says. “I thought it was a bit much to begin with, if I'm honest. And then it just kind of became useful for me to keep him onboard. Especially when…” She breaks off and takes another mouthful of pie.

“When what?” asks Rebecca, her heart thumping loudly in her chest. “When what, Paula?!”

“Well, when I realized whatever it was between you was still there,” she admits. “That it wasn’t Josh [she puts her own hand on her own heart at this] or Nathaniel.” She grins at Rebecca. “Cookie, that sexy half-italian guy is still so into you. You know, he was the one who figured out you were struggling at _Rebetzel’s_ and got Heather involved.”

“Paula, I’m very single, willingly single” Rebecca says, unconvincingly.

Paula waves her fork at her and Rebecca swallows and clutches her hand to her chest.

“Okay, Paula, if we're sharing, "she says in a high voice and Paula's eyes bulge in anticipation. “Back in February, on our date that wasn’t a date….” Her voice trembles. “Greg told me that I was the love of his life.”

Paula makes a high-pitched noise in the back of her throat and grabs Rebecca’s hand.

“What, are you going to do, Cookie?” she whispers.

“I’m going to keep writing my songs,” Rebecca answers, evenly. “And I am going to do my own show… but not yet. My teacher was right about me not being ready,” she acknowledges, and Paula nods, understandingly. 

A wide grin spreads across Rebecca’s face. “Paula, I’m going to do my show, and I'm gonna do it on _Valentine’s Day_.”


	7. Valentine's Day 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rebecca's life accelerates, as she plans her open-mic night and deals with her overwhelming feelings for Greg. Paula meddles one last time.

[ **OUTSIDE SERRANO’S RESTAURANT]**

_Rebecca paces up and down in front of Serrano’s, hoping she can’t be seen behind the blinds. “Just do it” she mutters to herself, going over lines she’s rehearsed in her head umpteen times. “It’s not a big deal.”_

“Hey, friend” says a voice behind her and Rebecca turns to find Heather and Valencia watching her. Heather gives her an amused look, while Valencia beams at her.

“Oh, hey guys.” Rebecca resumes trying to peer into the restaurant. “What are you doing here?” she adds, without any real interest.

“Getting pizza. It’s a restaurant,” Heather replies. “What are _you_ doing here?”

“Oh, I need to invite Greg to my show. On Valentine’s day.”

“Oh,” mimics Heather, and they continue to stand outside the restaurant for a few more seconds. “Shall we go in or…?”

Valencia agrees, brightly, and gently pushes Rebecca into the restaurant with a gentle “go on, girl”.

As Rebecca walks towards Greg, Valencia mutters into undertone to Heather: “I can’t wait to be proven right. It’s not even about the money anymore, it’s more about the fact that I have been right all along. I'll be fine with the sense of victory. ” She darts Heather a satisfied smile

“Sure, good luck with that,” Heather replies. “This back-and-forth has been going on for the last, like, six months. I'm not sure it's going to change any time soon.”

* * *

 

“Ha.”

“Ha...?” echoes Rebecca, staring at Greg. This is…not the response she anticipated to her invitation.she shuffles one foot against the back of her other leg, uncomfortably.

“Ha, as in ha, you do know that Valentine’s Day is probably the busiest and most important day in the restaurant business calendar, right?” Greg explains, an eyebrow arched.

“Oh, right,” she answers. “I know, and I appreciate that…but I’d really love you be there.”

He looks lost in thought for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip and jutting his jaw from side to side.

She gets impatient.... Maybe this isn't coming out as she planned... and tries to start again, placing a hand on his arm. “It’s just, I really want this show to be like my way of showing everything I’ve learnt and experienced over the past, like, year…the past few years, really. And you’re a big part of that. I’d love it if you…well, if *everyone* could be there…”

“Woah,” says Greg, holding up a hand to stop her. “I hear you, don't worry. I’ll be there – I was just figuring out who I trust most to look after this place if I’m at the open-mic.”

He grins, trying to reassure her. She had become sincere remarkably quickly, and, he gauged, as he hadn’t always successfully in the past, that now was no time for teasing. He lets her know he'll be there. 

She looks relieved. “Thank you,” They don't get chance to say much else as Greg as hurried away by a harried-looking member of his kitchen staff. 

"....Just don't leave Tommy in charge," Rebecca calls as she walks away. 

                                                                                                                                      

**[REBECCA’S APARTMENT]**

“So, you asked him then?” Paula asks, as she sifts through Rebecca’s closet.

“Who?”

“Greg, of course” Paula replies, somewhat indignantly, and turns away from the closet to give Becky a hard stare. 

“Oh yeah…” Rebecca holds up a flared dark blue dress against herself, but Paula quickly dismisses it with a wave of her hand.

“So, what’s the plan then, honey?” she tries again. “Are you going to serenade him, send him a love letter?... Oooh, I know, you could jump out one of those giant cakes in Serrano’s?”

Rebecca snorts. “No, you know how much Greg would hate a public declaration like that.” She pauses for a moment, wondering if the look on his face would be worth it. “But no, my gig isn’t about romance,” she reiterates to Paula. “It’s about me showing who I am… finding out about who I am.”

Paula smiles at her. “And Greg isn’t a part of that?”

“Well, maybe…” Rebecca admits. “Maybe he will be,” she smiles tentatively back at Paula.

But then she screws up her face. “But Paula, none of these outfits are working. None of them say, "Rebecca Bunch, look how far I’ve come... ’” she pouts.

“Hey, then we’ll just have to go shopping, no worries. "

“But there’s only five days to go… I’ve got so much practice to do…” She looks worryingly like she’s going to spiral, throwing the dress in her hand down on to the bed. Truth is, the gig has come around faster than she expected, and she still has a rigorous amount of practice left to do. She also hasn’t spent any time with Greg since asking him to her show and the prolonged seperation is making her angsty. The knowledge of Paula’s recent approval, plus their burgeoning relationship, generally, combined with the preparation for her show, has proven... well, a lot.

Paula reassures her. “We can do it, come on, let’s shop. I think something red would be good for Valentine’s day, you know.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Paula answers, grabbing her by both arms, firmly. “Cookie, we got this.”

 

**[A BAR: VALENTINE’S DAY, 2020]**

Rebecca finally sits on stage, breathing deeply. How has a year passed and she’s found herself here? The lights feel startlingly bright as she looks around the room and delivers her speech, telling her story. She really does love everyone in this room [well, those she knows, anyway].

But now she’s sat at the keys and there’s nothing left to do but play. Paula is there, in her ridiculously on-the-nose-heart-covered sweater; so much love beaming out of her and barrelling towards Rebecca. She can feel her excitement and anticipation from across the room. It really has been the so much fun that Paula predicted. 

Just before she begins, she glances quickly to her right and finds Greg. It’s only for a moment, but it’s there. He’s there. Solid and warm and him and okay. There, like has been for the best parts of this last year. How did she ever cope when he went away the last time?... But she did, and he knew she would, and he knew that they both had to face their own demons and find their own ways. And it was difficult, being without him after she’d known him, had him there on her side, understanding her in some way, despite everything.

He was ahead, like she’d said on stage, but wasn’t she ready to catch up now? He said he hadn’t waited but he was still there, and if she was ready for anyone in this room it was him, she realizes she can now admit to herself. It was him her eyes sought out.

Regardless, his presence comforted her. If he can deal with alcoholism, run his own successful business and cope with _everything_ Marco-related, then surely she can play a few songs on a keyboard. Step-by-step. She breathes, smiles, and begins to play.

 

* * *

 

When she leaves him until last, Greg’s heart soars. He can feel the tension radiating out of Whi-Jo next to him, as Rebecca’s gaze locks with his own.

“ _What’s left to say to you that I haven’t already said…?”_

Usually, he hates public displays of affection, [naturally] but this time he wants to hear every thought and every word she says, all at maximum volume. Heck, he would have made her a banner if he’d thought of it beforehand. He’s proud of it all, and proud of her and proud that he is part of this whole thing, shushing Whi-Jo’s comments, so he doesn’t miss a moment. 

“Hi,” he purrs back to her public greeting, that somehow feels painfully intimate.

He beams proudly at her, in his own soft way, as she finally gets to meet herself and gets her own happy place on that stage. Who cares if she misses a few notes here and there, or her voices cracks, or some of her rhymes are a little basic - every flaw is part of her and a hint of her journey left to come.

It seems unbelievable to him that he might have been responsible for setting any kind of example to her – they were always so messy, how did she manage to pull anything worthwhile out of the wreckage.But if he was responsible , well, his heart jumps again at the thought of it. Perhaps, if he's lucky, some kind of something can rise from the ashes of whatever they once were. 

 

* * *

 

Afterwards, Rebecca battles with the myriad of emotions that crash through her, while having to sit and politely watch the remaining performers. When it’s finally all over, she disappears under a four-way hug from Paula, Valencia, and Heather – the gurl group triumphant.

They decide to make the most of the setting, and everyone surrounds her with love and appreciation and celebration. It seems everyone she's ever met is in her face congratulating her and she can't get a beat to reflect on the content of her performance, “It is done,” she thinks. Proper analysis will have to be saved for later.

Greg brushes a quick kiss against her cheek at one point, but she barely has chance to register it in all the hubbub.

And then Nathaniel is looming tall in her periphery. She smiles at him, eager to hear about Guatemala, and thanks him for the tasteful and large bunch of flowers he’d sent before the show. He praises her performance, the content of his compliments as overly-lavish as his earlier bouquet.

Heather and Valencia disappear, and Nathaniel moves closer, although he notices  Rebecca’s eyes still roam the room.

“So, it was interesting what you were saying… about being ready for romance?”

“Oh, yeah,” she replies, trying to keep her tone neutral and caught a little off guard. She can’t help but notice he still smells the same – masculine and expensive.

“Yeah, so I’m in town for a couple of days…”

“Cool,” Rebecca answers, brightly. “It’d be great to catch up and hear more about Guatemala. ”

He interrupts her, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “I’ve got the best suite in the Hilton, by the way.” A key jangles in his hand. 

And, for a moment, she is tempted... She imagines that they’d still work in that physical way they always did, and with the look he’s giving her, she knows how it would go.

A passionate rendezvous in a neutral yet stylish hotel room, an erotic encounter in a supply closet  slash pantry. Clandestine, illicit, forbidden… _wait_ , another affair?

“Wait, aren’t you seeing someone?” she asks, reality coming back to her like a bucket of cold water over her head. 

“Well, I guess…” he fudges, artfully, and then smiles. “But those kinds of rules never really applied to us?" He licks his lips. "We’re… different.”

“No,” she says, more forcefully than she intends, and Nathaniel blinks and takes a small step backwards.

“I don’t want to do that anymore. Be that person.” She shakes her head. “And, I don’t think you do either.”

He pauses for a moment, not meeting her eye. “You’re right, I do care a lot about her… the woman I’m seeing. It’s just… trying to be good, trying to be nice all the time… it’s difficult” he concludes, with a small shrug of his shoulders. 

Rebecca gives an arch huff of laughter. “You’re telling me,” she replies, not unsympathetically. “I get it. I think maybe you and I would just do a better job of being good far away from each other.”

He looks bewildered but then nods, meeting her eye now. “Maybe you’re right.”

After thinking for a moment, he gives her a small smile. “Huh, actually, if I'm honest, I was surprised to see you still single.”

His eyes roam the room, finding Greg for her. “You know, when Serrano came back, that time on your patio with Chan and that, uh, other guy you had a date with… it wasn’t me you were looking at when we walked away. I don’t think you’ve ever looked at me quite like that. If I’m honest, I knew then.”

Rebecca looks at him without speaking, and then says in a small voice, “I looked at you plenty.”

He holds up his hand, smiling. “It doesn’t matter – I’m not fishing, Rebecca, not anymore.”

She says nothing and then after a beat tries to get the conversation back to his life overseas. He tells her he’ll be returning to LA in a few months, but not to West Covina.

“There’s nothing really here for me anymore, now I’m not returning to my dad's firm, no more Mountaintop.”

“Are you still going to do pro-bono work?” she asks.

“Yeah, I am”. He smiles fully for the first time, and starts to tell her about some of his environmental work in Guatemala. They part as friends.

 

* * *

 

Greg’s elation lasts throughout her whole performance. This open-mic night feels like her version of his feeling of opening night at Serrano's, he realizes, his heart thudding for the shared experience.

But then the fear and doubt starts to creep in. Old memories from an old Greg niggle in his mind

“ _It could be anyone in this room_ …” and _wait.._. is he back in a line-up?

His mind continues to whir, and he’s not the only one beaming at her, he notices. Nathaniel, standing tall as ever, [ _why is he so damn tall?_ ] leans down to whisper in her ear; that Jim from her old office winks at her from across the room; and that guy he suddenly realizes he recognizes from that terrible night on her patio, pulls her into a long hug.

 _Nope_ , Greg thinks. There’s no way he’s getting sucked back into a competition for Rebecca’s heart. He’s come too far for that. Memories from times before flash into his head.

Talking at her across the bar in Home Base while she desperately vied for Chan’s attention; sizing up Nathaniel as rival when they both wanted to date her; finding his name atop a goddamn list of his positive attributes, like some kind of shopping list, in Rebetzel’s.

Nope. He knows clearly in his own mind how he feels about her, and given their interactions of the last few weeks, had thought they were mutual, but he has too much pride now to play any more games to find out. He was unwillingly to make love any kind of game a year ago, and he’s definitely not going to now. He sighs hard.

But Greg also knows better now than to let his own feelings of self-doubt and insecurity ruin someone else’s happy moment. He's learnt that much at least. He struggles for a moment with the urge to self-sabotage: he could storm out or make or bitter comment to Rebecca or Nathaniel, or hell, whoever he next happens to talks to, and he would feel better in that moment at least. 

But he looks over at Rebecca and knows he won’t.

He sees an expression on her face that he’s rarely seen there before. Her cheeks are, admittedly, flushed, and her eyes sparkle and dance, but more-so she looks at peace with herself. So, even if she doesn’t want him back, he knows that she has this look of contentment that's so hard to find for someone like her, and that should be enough. He can't tarnish that with bitterness or romantic declarations. 

He can get over her, he’s done it before.

True, the first time he literally had to remove himself from her orbit but he’s stronger than that now. True, also, that he told her he wouldn’t wait one year ago, and he _had_ meant it, but it hadn’t taken long in her presence for that resolve to break. This time he would try harder. He had to.

He steels himself and walks over to her, reminding himself that this is her night.

“Hey Rebetzel, not bad,” he says, a smile playing around the corners of his mouth. It still comes easily. 

“Thank you,” she smiles back, flushed. “It means a lot to me that you’re here, honestly.”

He can’t think of anything appropriate as a response, so he leans over and hugs her, slipping an envelope into her hand. “For later,” he instructs.

Rebecca nods and pops it into her purse, where she knows it will burn a hole until she eventually reads it.

“So, you're happy with tonight? How it went? "he asks, gently.

“I know it wasn’t perfect but it just feels so right, like I was meant to do this. It’s such a relief,” she explains.

Greg nods. “Hey” he smiles, trying his hardest to sound playful. “On balance, I would say I’m definitely glad that I got to meet Rebecca Bunch, so I’m pleased you’re finally getting to do likewise.”

She bites her lip, and squints knowingly at him, dimples forming in both cheeks. 

* * *

 

The rest of the evening passes in a blur for Rebecca. Everyone she’s ever met in West Covina apparently wants to talk to her, which is lovely but still exhausting. She often looks for Greg, watching him, but never close enough to strike up a conversation.

She eventually manages to extract herself from an almost-tearful Maya, who is monologuing on the example she’s set as a self-sufficient feminist defying Patriarchal narratives, and finds Paula. She exhales and Paula raises her eyebrows.

“You ready to leave, Cookie?”

Greg, for his part, stays long enough so that his absence will not be noticed if he goes, and then flees back to the sanctity of his restaurant, happy to listen to detailed reports of the night’s takings and not have to think anything about his romantic feelings.

 

**[REBECCA’S APARTMENT]**

_Over the next few days, Rebecca’s emotions settle, and she is able to rationally evaluate how the evening went. She peppers all her friends with questions about her performance, eager to get useful notes for next time. The thought of next time fills her with glee. Now she’s got through her first show, it’s a reality. There will be a next time. It’s not until she’s sat alone in Rebetzel’s, that she finds herself repeatedly checking her phone, and wondering why she hasn’t heard anything from Greg._

_And now, later, she’s sat in her apartment, her roommate out, waiting for Paula to arrive and trying not to look at her empty notifications list._

Her phone buzzes, but it’s just Valencia checking on details for her wedding next weekend. Rebecca tuts and scrolls to the ‘Words with Friends’ app, trying to think of a suitable word, before throwing it down in frustration. She’s made her real-life move. She’s made a public declaration that she’s ready to date and now there’s nothing but radio silence from him.

She echoes the same sentiment to Paula later out loud, and over a glass of wine.

Paula gives her a look. “Honey, you think that was a declaration!? ”

“Well, yes…,” she answers. “Paula, I had to be subtle. This gig was like my…” She waves her arms around, searching for the right word, “… like my thesis of my time in West Covina.”

Paula puts her head on one-side, not unlike a bird, and Rebecca continues. “Yeah, like, it started with me literally moving here for a guy, for Josh. It couldn’t end with me being like, well, duh, it’s now fated so I met Greg,” she says, warmly. “And not to quote myself, or anything, but as I said, love is not an ending.”

“I get that, I really do” says Paula. “But Cookie, if you do want to date him, then I think you need to tell him.”

Rebecca sighs and crosses her legs. “I think I’ve told him Paula. I’ve done everything right for this past year, now I’ve just got to wait if it’s going to happen. And, I don’t even know if it will happen.”

Truth be told, she hopes she just has to wait. She does now feel ready for a relationship, but after holding out for a year, the thought of having to take affirmative action fills her with a nervous dread.

“Whatever you say…” says Paula, resignedly, but then she pauses and can’t help adding, “You did tell him a year ago that you need to do this alone, though, and he’s respected that. I still think you need to tell him if your feelings have changed. Not just declare you’re ready for love in a room full of... well, other candidates.”

Rebecca smiles. “But Paula, if it was going to be anyone a year ago, it would have been him. He knows that... right? ”

“Did you tell him that?!”

“Well, no… I thought it would make things worse for him….”

Paula drinks a sip of wine and looks thoughtful, and then visibly resolves to change the subject. “So, any ideas on the directions of your new songs?”

Rebecca, glad of the distraction, stands up to get something from the table. She returns, clutching her songwriting notebook. “I was hoping you would ask,” she tells Paula, uncharacteristically shyly.

“So, now that the open-mic is over, and I wasn’t bottled off the stage and/or completely terrible, I was hoping you’d read through everything I’ve written. I know you’ve heard me practicing a lot of them, but it’d mean a lot to share it all with you.”

Paula gasps and clutches the notebook to her heart.

“But not now…”  Rebecca cringes. “Like, later, when you’re at home.”

 

**[SERRANO’S]**

_Paula has had a horrendously long day when she swings by Serrano’s to pick up Tommy. She enters to find the restaurant empty, except for Greg, who is sat on empty table with his head over a roll of receipts. He looks up briefly in a greeting and nods at her._

“Tommy?” she asks, stifling a yawn.

“Out the back getting changed,” Greg replies and turns back to his books.

Paula sits and dumps her bag on the nearest table, intending to sit and tap idly on her phone while she waits. After, a moment, however, she clears her throat with a growing annoyance. Has Greg really gone back to his monotonous self of pre-last year? 

“Sooo…” she begins. “Haven’t seen you since the open-mic.”

“So, it would seem.”

Paula rolls her eyes despite knowing it’s a pointless move, because Greg still isn't looking at her. 

“Didn’t our Cookie do good?” she dangles, and he now looks up, snapping his account book shut with a crack.

 “And you aren’t going to do anything, despite hearing what she said…?” she continues to push.

“She said a lot of things” Greg smiles, determined not to play along. He moves over to the coffee machine and starts wiping it down.

“Come on, Greg you know what I’m talking about. She’s ready now…”

“Well, good luck to her. I’m sure Tommy can set her up on Tindr, or whatever, he’s the expert on that, apparently.”

Paula huffs and glares at his back. “You’re really not going to do anything, despite everything that’s happened between you in the last year…?!”

“Nope” Greg replies, letting steam out of the nozzle. “Look, Paula, I put myself out there last year and Rebecca wasn’t ready, which is completely understandable. But I’m not going to wait around again just to have another go in some competition for her affections. I just… I can’t keep doing that.”

Paula says nothing.

“Anyway,” he continues, turning around to face her, finally. “Don’t you two have a pact that you don’t get involved in her romantic life anymore?” he asks.

“Maybe. ” Looking chastised, Paula goes back to her phone.

Greg looks momentarily victorious, but then starts twisting the dish cloth on his shoulder, and neither of them say anything for a couple of moments. Eventually, Paula looks up at the sound of Tommy's footsteps. 

“Greg,” she says, urgently. “She told me that if she’d have picked anyone last year, it would have been you….and I can’t see that much has changed since then, can you?"

She continues to stare intently at him as Tommy cheerfully enters the room but Greg frowns and returns to the coffee machine.

“Okay,” he says more to himself, gently, as Paula and Tommy leave.

When Paula gets home, she pulls back out Rebecca’s notebook. She's barely had chance to read past the first page, a big case at work demanding her attention for the last couple of days, but now her run-in with Greg re-energizes her. She closes her bedroom door, with strict instructions to Scott and Tommy not to interrupt her, and begins to read.

 

**[REBECCA’S HOUSE]**

The next evening, Rebecca sits in the same position on her couch, balancing a tub of ice cream on her knee, and still trying not to look at the ‘Word with Friends’ app.

There’s a quick rap at the door and her heart pounds. “Greg?” she thinks, jumping up in eager anticipation.

It’s Paula. However, any disappointment she might feel immediately vanishes when she notices the wild look on Paula’s face.

“Honey… this is magical,” Paula breathes, as Rebecca pulls her in to the house. 

“What’s going on?”

“I read your book, I read all your songs…” Paula flaps the book at her and takes a seat at the table.

“Oh?” Rebecca looks at her in confusion, not getting where Paula is going with this. She pulls the ice cream back towards her as a comfort.

“Rebecca, it’s just all in here… how you feel about Greg,”

Rebecca chews on her lip and looks at her.

“I mean, I know it's more about your inner journey, and there are some bits about me and you that, honestly, touched me _so_ much.”

Paula puts her hand on her own heart at this.

“But, there’s like…” She flicks between the pages. “…. like, seven songs in here specifically about him. ”

Rebecca smiles, unsurely, at her. “I… you sure?”

Paula continues to wade through her notebook. “Cookie, there’s the one about him being a fallback, the one where he’s bitter about being stuck in West Covina, the one where you get the feels, a weird post-sex one that I’m _not_ going to get into...., one about his alcoholism, the one where he leaves…” [Paula gulps and puts her hand on her chest again at this]. “And then the one where he comes back.”

She grabs Rebecca’s hand and Rebecca continues to look at her, wordlessly. “Honey, you’ve just got him down so well, you give him such a voice… you just need to let him know.”

“But, Paula…” Rebecca begins, emotion now wrecking her voice.

“I know, you've done so well having time to your self... I get it. But, isn't this a connection worth pursuing? You deserve to give it a try."

Rebecca nods, and drops her spoon, looking at Paula with fear on her face. “But Paula, what if it’s too late? He said he wasn’t going to wait. What if I made him forget how to love me?”

Paula squeezes her hand tighter.

“I’m just going to have to go and find out, aren’t I?” Rebecca sighs, and then gets up, a determined look on her face. She pulls on some shoes, and heads to the door. Paula calls out and then waits a few seconds before Rebecca turns around.

“Yeah, I’m not going like this,” she admits, looking down at her Harvard t-shirt, stained sweatpants, and pats her head to feel her hair pulled back into a messy knot on top of it. “Let me give myself half a chance”.

Paula chuckles and hugs her in excitement.

**[SERRANO’S RESTAURANT]**

Greg is alone, again, in his restaurant. This time he stacks chairs on top of tables and tries not to think about Rebecca. He’s not doing a very good job. He’d be lying if he said that Paula’s words hadn’t awakened a flicker of hope in a part of his mind that had been dormant since the open-mic. 

It was true that he'd purposely not interacted with her since then, trying to harden his resolve to move on. He hadn’t been doing a very good job of that, either. He’d gone back to scrolling absentmindedly through a few dating apps, but had thrown his phone down in frustration after about two minutes. 

Her words from the other night ring in his head.

“ _And now I’m maybe finally ready for the other kind of love…”_

He smiles, as he thinks back over the last year. Sharing burritos after Nathaniel’s leaving party; her just being there after Marco died; watching her work at Valencia’s engagement party and then dancing together; numerous Sunday’s together spent in Home Base; and then, just weeks ago - their conversation on the bench in El Segundo that had felt so full of meaning.

These moments all happened, he reflects and weren’t they, arguably, all romantic moments, despite their damndest attempts to just remain friends? He sighs, leaning against the nearest table for a moment, considering the ridicously tempting idea of running out the door and over to her apartment.

But he doesn’t have to, because she’s there banging on his door like it’s, what, four years ago.

He lets her in with another “Hey, are you okay?” but this time she doesn’t smash towards him with her face and mouth. This time she smiles tentatively, but bravely, and asks to talk.

“Okay,” he answers, not averting his gaze. “Let’s talk.”

She’s clutching a leather-bound notebook to her that she places awkwardly on a table, before turning back to him. “So, the other night… I was wondering if you heard what I said. Or what you thought about what I said?”

Greg nods, so she continues.

“About me being ready…?”

He can’t help but sigh. “Of course, I heard that.”

She's about to speak when she suddenly notices something in the restaurant. "What's that?" she asks in shock, jabbing her thumb towards the corner, eyes wide.

It's a piano. She gives a startled head toss of disbelief.

Greg shuffles his feet. "Yep, the piano" he admits in a gruff voice. "You did point it out in that old photograph... and I thought why not bring it back,. Might add to the, uh, ambience of the place to get some music in here". 

"But you don't play... who's going to play it?"

She looks between him and the piano, enlightenment dawning on her face, and he smiles guiltily at her. "It's for me" she murmurs.

"Well, it's not for Tommy..." 

Emboldened now, she moves closer to him and takes one of his hands, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles. “So, you think, honestly…? ”

“But you do know I said I wasn’t going to wait, and I didn't, ” Greg interrupts her, quietly. He doesn’t remove his hand, however, and Rebecca continues holding it, willing it to stay in hers.

Her eyes are huge green saucers that won't let him go, as he says, his voice unsteady. “I can’t compete for you again, Rebecca.”

She looks away, confused. “No, I don’t want you to.”

But then she takes his other hand pulling him closer. “But Greg, if you still feel like you did last year, I need to know…” She pauses and he blinks back at her. “I mean, I totally get it if you don’t… I’ve no right to ask, and I know you said you wouldn’t wait…”

Emotion creeps into her voice, and she begins to ramble. “It’s all there, in my notebooks, my songs…. I just need you to know. I _could_ date anyone, well, within reason, yes, but _I want_ to date you."

Her voice breaks and Greg's eyes crinkle, his lips pulling into the soft smile she's only seen him use for her.

"Of course, I still feel the same,” he says, his hand reaching out and caressing her face. She breathes again and reaches up towards him until her mouth finds his. It’s a long hard kiss, full of emotion but chaste, and she’s shaking as he pulls away, his hands still in her hair.

“I did try not to wait, I really did,” he smiles against her face. “But you never left here and here" He points towards his chest and his temple. 

He rests his forehead on hers, as she whispers, “I choose you.”

And then they kiss again, more passionately this time, and he pulls her up to him, wrapping his arms tightly around her torso as one hand cradles her head. His tongue slides into her mouth and she's pushing her hips into him, before he pulls away, breathlessly.

“Let’s do this properly,” he suggests, taking her by her shoulders and taking deep breathes. “For real this time.”

Her face is wet, as she smiles wryly back at him. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well... let’s not go to Valencia’s wedding together.”

She droops. “Oh”

“No, that has so much meaning for… for us both,” he explains, rubbing a thumb across her glistening cheek. “Let’s avoid pressure like that to begin with, really take it slow, do it properly... I mean, we’ll both still be there, anyway. And we know I owe you a dance, a full one this time. " he grins. 

Then his voices drops, and he practically growls into her ear: "Besides, that’s a whole week away. Do you really want to wait that long?”

“True,” she says, melting, as his words brush along her neck, goosebumps running down her arms. 

“Then, I’ll pick you up on Wednesday night?” he asks with a grin.

“Like a date?" Her grin matches his.

"Like a date." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TO BE CONTINUED... next chapter will be more...fluffy?


	8. We Get Each Other...We Get Along

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue of sorts - probably entirely unnecessary, but hopefully wanted! Smooching and dancing and ruining each other, but in a very good way.

**[THE WINEBAR ON FOOTHILL]**

_Rebecca sits nursing a glass of Pinot with Valencia and Heather sat opposite her. The table I front of her is covered in an assortment of various items for Valencia’s upcoming wedding. Heather flicks through a printed agenda, with a pen in her mouth, while Valencia ties ribbons on gift bags._

“So, you and Greg aren’t coming to the wedding together?” Valencia asks Rebecca again, a shadow of a vein flickering across her forehead.

“Correct,” Rebecca replies, cheerfully. “We’re starting new traditions. He’s taking me out tomorrow night, actually.”

“Oh, really?” replies Heather, calmly, as Valencia spits out:

“Where?!”

“No idea.” Rebecca’s phone starts ringing. “Shoot, I’m meeting my music teacher now. So, I’ll see you guys on Friday for rehearsal?”

She squeals at this last detail and the fact of being being so close to the wedding, before giving Valencia a hug, and then darts out of the bar.

Valencia takes a long sip of wine and stares after her, a frown clouding her face.

“Relax,” Heather laughs. “Things are in motion and your wedding is going to be _sweet_. You did plan it, after all.”

At this, Valencia sighs. “I know, and I also know Rebecca is going to look foine in that bridesmaid dress I picked out for her.”

She pauses. “Greg better not stuff this up or I will murder him."

 

**[REBECCA’S HOUSE]**

Butterflies bounce frantically in Rebecca’s stomach, as she waits in her kitchen for Greg’s knock or buzz at the door.

She nervously pats down the shortish skirt and white patterned blouse she’d picked out earlier after rejecting several other outfits. Enough cleavage to be foxy without tipping over into anything else. Greg will have to concentrate on the road, afterall. 

She smirks suddenly remembering the dress she'd worn the first time Greg had taken her out and the look on his face when he'd first seen her in it. But that had been for Josh, not for him. The pink Herve Leger bandage dress with the price tag that could feed her for like a month now. She'd sold it on eBay four months ago. 

 _Why am I so nervous?_ she thinks, fastening up her heeled boots. _It’s only Greg, I see him all the time anyway._ Although, thinking about it, it has been a long time since she's been on an actual date.

Fortuitously, there’s finally a buzz at the door and she bounds towards it, happy to be away from the niggling voices in her head.

And then Greg is at the door - his eyebrow raised and a hand reaching towards her and his mouth curving into a smile.

"Hey," he says, and then everything is okay.

She does a mini doubletake as she steps outside. “You got a new car?? ”

“Yeah,” he admits, a little sheepishly. "Shauna give me a loan to cover it, actually.”

“Huh, nice” Rebecca says, nodding in approval at the Prius.

“Yeah, well, the last one wasn’t really business-owner appropriate, and also I thought you’d be pretty pissed if we had a repeat of our last trip to the auto shop.”

There’s a snap of tension in the air as soon he refers to the auto shop event, and Rebecca blushes, before saying, “well, it wasn’t all that bad” into the thick silence.

Soon, they are on the freeway with the sun setting and the air blowing, and Rebecca asks, “So, Gregory, where are we going – am I allowed to know?”

“Ha,” Greg replies, and waggles his eyebrows, mysteriously. “... No.”

After a while, they take a left turn and Rebecca clasps her hands together in excitement. “Oh, my god – we’re going to the drive-in, the one in Alhambra!”

“Maaybe” grins Greg, and he turns the dial on the radio to cover his expression.

“Oooh, what are we going to see”? She spots a billboard out of the window. “The Riddler, 2020!?” she asks, surprised.

“What?! No, you think I'd take you to... No," scoffs Greg, indignantly. There’s a pause before he admits, “Roman Holiday.”

“Oh, cool.” She’s unable to stop the large grin that unravels across her face.

* * *

 

Rebecca insists on buying the popcorn and they sit and watch the old movie together in an easy silence, the odd comment or quip thrown in here and there.

As the credits roll, they turn to find each other startingly close. Greg’s hand is on Rebecca’s knee pointing up her thigh. She blinks a couple of times, her green eyes dangerously large, and Greg stretches his hand, the tips of his fingers travelling under the hem of her skirt.

Then the car behind them blares its horn and Greg clears his throat.

“Sooo, about changing our patterns…”

“Yeah... I’ve got to get up really early in the morning for work” Rebecca admits.

“Don’t want to be late for your salty castle,” he bats back, not breaking eye contact.

He removes his hand from her thigh and cups her face instead, leaning in for a kiss, which is somehow hard and soft at the same time.

“C’mon, I’ll drop you off at home,” he nudges his shoulder into hers. 

 

* * *

 

 **Rebecca Bunch, [11.07pm]:** _He was a gentleman. It was kinda weird yet so right_

 **Paula Proctor, [11.09pm]:** _You mean you didn’t have sex anywhere inappropriate? Cookie, that’s growth!!_

* * *

 

**[A STYLISH WEDDING VENUE, WEST COVINA]**

Greg had been pretty confident he’d done the right thing in not inviting Rebecca to Valencia’s wedding, until the morning of said wedding when he'd found himself staring warily at his own alien reflection in a suit. 

“Nah, bro – it’s fine,” Hector reassures him. “Besides, they’re all doing bridesmaidy things right now anyway,” he adds, showing Greg a WhatsApp from Heather of Paula, Heather and Rebecca, all beaming in claret dresses.

This time, it’s Greg's turn for his stomach to churn impatiently, and he turns back to trying to knot his tie. Hector notices his expression and grins, knowingly, before moving to help him with knot.

Luckily, before they leave Whi-Jo pulls them both aside and makes them re-knot their ties with a “C’mon guys, Valencia will kill you if you turn up like that.” Greg does what he says, reassured not to have only Hector for help and advice this time. 

Later, Greg sits wedged between Hector and Whi-Jo, the sun beating down warmly on his back. He tries not to stare too obviously at Rebecca as she glides down the aisle behind Valencia's little sister, her claret dress hugging her curves exactly, 

And, when it gets to the important bit of the service, the emotional bit [i.e. the part where Greg would usually squirm and look away] he instead searches for Rebecca’s face. She’s already staring right at him, backlit by the sun like something out of a corny movie that Greg would hate. They share secret smiles as Valencia’s voice wobbles during her vows.

As Rebecca’s reads out a translation of Spanish wedding blessing, Greg again tries not stare too hard, his heart thumping in his chest for her. However, he evidently doesn’t do a good job, as a second later Whi-Jo elbows him in the ribs.

“Dude, get a grip,” he rolls his eyes. But he’s smiling, also.

 

* * *

 

Needless to say, Valencia has sat them next to each other at the reception and Rebecca immediately turns her chair away from Whi-Jo on her right hand side, and Greg definitely verges on rude, as he ignores one of Valencia’s middle-aged cousins on his left, despite her best attempts to get his attention. It turns out, the middle-aged ladies did still love Greg. 

The rest of the afternoon passes in a blur for Rebecca. Eating with Greg, posing for _many_ photos with the bridal party, and even performing a very short piano piece for Valencia and Beth.

Soon, it’s evening and getting darker and the marque they're dancing in is filled with candlelight. Paula nudges her arm and points over in amusement to where Greg is being man-handled by one of Valencia’s aunts. She watches on, amused, while the tipsy aunt tries to pull Greg towards her by his tie.

“I think I better go and rescue him,” she laughs to Paula. 

"Excuse me, I need to borrow this one - he owes me a dance" she laughs, placing her hand on Greg's arm.

He's looks so relieved she can't really tell if he's pleased to see her or more glad to be away from the aunts. She pulls him away from his middle-aged fan club and onto the dancefloor, placing her arms around his shoulders.

“Thanks” he grins, and then “hello”, staring down at her, his face and voice turning suddenly more serious.

“You know, if you really want to scare them off, you should kiss me” Rebecca suggests, biting her lip and staring up at him, eyelids heavy while her eyelashes flutter. 

And he does - pulling her to him passionately, and cupping her face in his hands. There's a dim crescendo of music in Rebecca's head that rises and falls into white noise. Greg's mouth and hands so demanding that her other senses all fall away. 

Somewhere in the marque, Valencia squeals in joy.

Hours later, Rebecca is sat draped over Greg’s lap, a happy and dazed smile on her face as they eat upmarket cheese and crackers. Greg traces circles on her shoulder idly with his hand, and she sits contentedly, until she remembers something. Grabbing her purse, she digs around in it until she pulls out a card.

“What’s that?”

“It’s the card you gave me on Valentine’s day, at the show" she says, batting it against his chest.

Greg looks a mixture of uncomfortable yet secretly pleased. “You’re carrying it around??" He blows out his cheeks. 

“Yes” she beams, opening it up and reading out – “ _I am not afraid of storms for I am learning how to sail my ship_ – Louisa May Alcott.”

She juts her lip out towards him and Greg squirms a little. “Yeah, it’s something Shauna, my, er, mom gave me to give to you. I just thought it seemed relevant for… well, for you, and for me, actually.”

Rebecca’s heart thumps hard in her chest and she takes his hand in hers and kisses him gently.

"It's so sweet" she coos. 

"Yeah, don't tell anyone... nobody can know I quote from the Little Women author, even though the new adaption has Greta Gerwig indie kudos o,r whatever " he whispers, grimacing, but then he kisses her back anyway. 

After a moment he pulls away. 

“Hmm, on such past occasions, now would be the time where I would pass out drunk or you’d storm off” he smirks, looking directly at her. “So, if we’re wanting to break old patterns, we’re doing well…”

“I mean, if we really wanted to break those ye olde patterns [Greg smirks delightedly at her old timey voice], that would involve actually going home together” she says coyly, putting her hand on his face and looking at him through half-closed eyes. 

He shakes his head momentarily in amused disbelief, and then leans in close to her ear, brushing his hand gently up her body and resting it on her neck.

“Your place or mine?” he practically growls and the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. 

They find Valencia in a cloud of white wedding dress to say goodbye, and she squeals as she sees their hands clasped together. “This is the best wedding present you could have given me” she breathes, as she hugs Rebecca.

 

* * *

 

This time, it’s better.

On the second day when they wake up together, sore and tired, after two days of ruining each other [because, of course, that still happens] they both get up and willingly go to their own places of work, safe in the knowledge that one of them will call or text to arrange their next date or hangout. They also don't care which one of them does it.

That doesn't matter. No more games, of that sort, anyway... 

But they are still Rebecca and Greg. Greg and Rebecca. So, late one evening when Rebecca is working late at Rebetzel’s, Greg stops by to pick her up. Noticing the security guard has left already, and the building is otherwise deserted, he stands and watches her for a moment, as she sorts pretzel ingredients on the metal kitchen bench. He smiles to himself. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around her waist, his mouth moving to her neck. She smiles a reply and nuzzles her body back into his, appreciatively. She keeps working and after a moment his hands move from her waist to her own hands to pause them, caressing them gently with his thumbs. She arches her neck as he slowly kisses a line from her jaw down to her clavicle.

“Oh,” she breathes, as he pulls her closer to him with one arm and the other arm slides up her body towards her chest. 

“Yeah?” he murmurs into her ear, kissing her neck again and beginning to unbutton her blouse.She can feel him hard behind her now and she pushes back against him.

One hand teases in her cleavage, squeezing the outline of her breasts, and the other tiptoes with purpose from her hip bone to the top of her pants. He’s unbuttoning her jeans and she grips both hands hard on the counter in front of her.

“Greg,” she moans gently and in one movement he picks her up and turns her round to sit her on the counter. They can kiss properly now, and she grabs him greedily, her mouth against his, digging her nails into his neck and wrapping her legs around him to pull him closer.

He’s kissing down her neck towards her cleavage, his hand sliding once again towards her pants, when she suddenly pauses, and pushes him away slightly.

“Huh?” he grins, his shirt also unbuttoned now, and she pulls it around her with mock modesty.

“Somewhere, less.. unhygienic” she instructs, also realizing they aren’t especially hidden from the street view in their current position, and trying to remember if the entrance has security cameras.

 Her eye catches the disabled bathroom and she leans back in towards Greg, smiling against his mouth, as she says, “Hey, remember how you used to have that app for finding bathrooms and we used to… you know…”

Greg nods, grinning. "Yes, I do..."

"Fancy a go for, like, old time’s sake?”

He raises an eyebrow, smirking, and she nods over to the disabled bathroom. Laughing, he half-picks her up and they stumble over to the bathroom together, removing her top as they go.

 

**[GREG’S APARTMENT, VALENTINE’S DAY, 2021]**

Rebecca suddenly sits bolt upright in bed. “God, I’m late" she gasps, as she rolls over to climb out of the bed.

“Nope” murmurs Greg, not opening his eyes and pulling her back towards him by her waist. “You’ve got the morning off, remember? ”

“Oh, because it’s Valentine’s Day, she says, relaxing, and she curls her body up as close to his as she can manage.

“Mmmm, Rebecca" he nuzzles into her neck, sleepily.

Rebecca lies still for a while, but then can’t help saying, “Hang on, you’ve got the morning off too, remember?”

He reluctantly opens his eyes and smiles at her. “That’s true”. He rolls over on top of her and starts kissing her on the lips, gently.

After another moment, Rebecca adds, “Hey, you know... this is the longest relationship I’ve ever had.”

Greg continues kissing a path down her throat and neck. “Well…” he pauses, looking up and grinning mischievously. “So far…”

She pushes him playfully on the arm, and then pulls him back up to her face. “Hey, that’s not nice.”

He smirks again. “I never said I’m nice…” But then he kisses her on the lips so fiercely that there's no time for thinking up a witty retort. When they naturally pause for breath, he leans up on one elbow, looking down at her.

“Me too,” he admits, looking at her more seriously. “I guess we really are working through this together, huh?”

“Yeah.” She tugs at the corner of his grey t-shirt and he kisses her, briefly, before rolling over and hopping out of the bed.

“So, now I can give you your present.”

“My _present_?” Her voice jumps an octave and she sits up, eagerly, curls askew. “So, is it a Valentine’s day present, because it’s technically not out anniversary yet. And the date on that depends on if you’re counting it from, like, when we hooked up again in Serrano’s, or our first date, or the first time this time around that we… you know…”

“Oh, I do know,” he replies, eyes glinting.

“It can be any of those, but let’s say Valentine’s day, as it is actually Valentines day, and god knows this is the first time I’ve ever actually wanted to anything about it.”

He sits back down on the bed and hands her a small, simply wrapped parcel.

“Aww,” she mews, sitting up and pulling the blankets to her chest. It’s a book, specifically a guidebook. A guidebook to Italy. She flicks through it and then looks at him, a question mark smile forming on her lips.

“So, I was thinking,” he starts, a little nervously, with a wobble in his voice. “Since I’ve finally started to make a decent profit at Serrano's, and you’ve now part sold Rebetzels... " He pauses and she nods in confirmation. "We might finally be able to go on a trip together. I’d say we’re both due a vacation.”

Rebecca makes a small squeak in response.

“I mean, I know we’d have to save hard for a few months but whadda ya thi…”

He’s cut off by Rebecca launching herself across the bed and into his lap. “Yes,” she exhales, kissing him again and wrapping her arms around his neck. “I think, very much yes.”

“And I can do some research for the restaurant” he continues, eagerly, counting places on his fingers. “We can go to Rome, Bologna…home of Ragu... Sicily, of course”

“Oh my god, the food - you know I love Italian food!" she beams." And, oh my god, you’re going to be, like, the most Italian version of you aren’t you?” she laughs, imagining him ordering in a restaurant in actual Italy.

“Well, it’d be rude not to,” he grins. “When in Rome?”

Rebecca shakes her head with a mock grimace, and he pulls playfully at one of her curls. Her hair is shorter again now, which exposes her neck, and he enjoys the way her curls once again bounce when she’s particularly animated. It’s darker too, with some flirty bangs, which he also loves, and tries to tell her so, regularly.

“Paula is going to be so excited,”

“You know she’s not invited, right?” Greg teases. "I'm not joking..."

"Ha, you're so funny." 

* * *

 

A few hours later, Greg pulls on his jacket, ready to leave for work. Rebecca is sat crossed-legged at his kitchen counter, her keyboard in front of her. It’s usually to be found in Greg’s apartment these days, Rebecca preferring to write in the quiet as her new flatmate is 24 and seems alarmingly young and loud. AJ has not returned from Dartmouth. 

“So, I’ll see you later,” he says, bending down to kiss her. "I love you." 

“Yeah,” she beams back at him. “I love you too."

_[It sometimes amazes her still how easily those words fall from each of their lips. It had taken her a few weeks of dating Greg again to pluck up the courage to tell him. And there'd been no fanfares, no twinkly music -- it had started as a warm fuzzy feeling in the pit of her stomach and had risen until it was on her lips._

_She'd been sat on his couch in his apartment in her underwear and one of his old flannel shirts. Greg had been taking some almond biscotti out of the oven, concentrating on drizzling some lemon icing over the top, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth in concentration._

_"So, what do you want to watch later? Surely we've watched all the True Crime Netflix has to offer.. " he'd asked her, not looking up._

_And then she'd said it... ]_

“You’ll be great, I can’t wait,” he squeezes her shoulder, reassuringly and bringing her back to the present. 

The present is good. 

Not wanting to miss a consecutive year of the busiest night in the restaurant trade, Greg is working a shift that night at the restaurant. Rebecca has a gig.

Fortunately, for them both, her gig is also conveniently at his restaurant. Her boyfriend’s restaurant - what perks.

The perfect setting for them both to pursue their passions yet make eyes at each other at the same time. 

The Italian guidebook catches her eye as she turns back to the table. It’s fallen open on page showing a pretty salmon-pink painted hotel with a wrought iron balcony.

She spreads her fingers across the black and white keys, a smile of contentment on her face.

 

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who read and commented. I appreciate it! Final chapter now edited. 
> 
> This was the first time I've ever finished anything like this so I'm pleased with having an ending. 
> 
> The Greg/Rebecca banter/connection saw me through!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. I'm planning seven chapters and an epilogue, so hope you like. 
> 
> It's become a little bit more wordy and sprawling than I intended, but I'm glad to include most of the West Covina cast of characters.
> 
> I'm sporadically on tumblr @portlypuppy or say hello/I hate this in the comments.


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